


pleasing a storm || an sbi familly

by sleepyboisincinc



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Angst, Family, all platonic babey, chosen family, mcyt - Freeform, minecraft youtube - Freeform, sleepy bois inc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyboisincinc/pseuds/sleepyboisincinc
Summary: tommy henley is a storm. he's angry and aggressive, and loud and mean. that is, on the outside. phil watson has fostered and adopted two children before. he wasn't dumb.he could tell when a child was mad because the world was mean to him. when they were angry because the universe didn't seem to understand that he was just a kid doing his best. he can put up with a tantrum. he had two teenage boys. tommy being three.it wont be an easy endeavour. there'll be yelling. there'll be crying. panic attacks. tantrums. phil is determined to help tommy see that he isnt a storm. he's just a kid. a kid who has to deal with too much at too young an age.phil watson would be trying to do the seemingly impossible. pleasing this storm.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 355
Kudos: 1799





	1. practice does not make perfect

**Author's Note:**

> hey boys! chapter one is iffy ik it's the one i was unsure about writing, but im excited about most of the others! im going to be updating this story every monday (i'll try this monday if i can grind it out in 3 days, but if not, next monday for sure) and yeah, i've published this story on wattpad under the same user, and follow me on twitter (@sleepyboisincc) for any updates !! 
> 
> love , percy

practice makes perfect was a fucking bullshit phrase. this was something that tommy henley had recently decided on. he had tried relentlessly to be the "perfect" child, and yet here he was, starting this stupid fucking process all over again. go to a house, try to behave, fail at it, get angry or annoyed and stop trying, BOOM! restart.

every now and again, there'd be an additional factor as to why he didn't suit their family. he didn't get on too well with kids his age. he swore too much. his grades weren't good enough. he was too loud. too quiet. too mean. too aggravating. tommy honestly lost track of the things his former families- if you could call them that- had said about him, but occasionally when he'd be trying to sleep, some of them would come around and smack him in the face.

however, phil watson had yet to call him any of these things. granted, tommy had been inside of his house for about two seconds, and his social worker winnie was still with him, so yeah, tommy had no real reason to be angry with him, but he sure as hell was.

he wasn't an idiot. he knew phil was in no way responsible for him ending up here, but something about the warm feeling (both literally- there was a fire burning in the fire place- and, like, well, emotionally he guessed) made him annoyed. 

tommy had been told about phil before he'd gotten here. the man had two kids(something tommy was less than pleased to hear about), both of whom he'd fostered and promptly adopted after about five months. they were the only two that phil had fostered, so so far the man had a 100% streak. tommy couldn't wait to break it. he also had one HELL of a high paying job. je hadn't actually been paying attention to that part, and didn't actually remember having it happening, but could tell on his own accord on account of his house being HUGE. tommy had never really lived with a lower class family (privileged, he knew), but he'd also never lived with someone as wealthy as phil. despite his nice (enough) clothing, he felt uncomfortably out of place.

tommy was pretty sure that an hour or so passed while winnie and phil discussed, well, something, he wasn't really paying attention to them. instead, he was inspecting what he could see of the house from his position on the living room couch. there's a lot of what he can only assume to be family pictures. phil is only in a few of them- three of the thirteen to be exact- and from what tommy can tell, he doesn't appear to be favouring either of the children. 

there's two kids- and tommy counts, there's five pictures of them both- then there's three that have both of them as well as phil. the first photo, the one that's particularly eye catching to tommy, is a picture of a boy with pink hair. this one particularly wasn't interesting to him because he has pink hair- no, he seems to have pink hair in all of them- no, this one was interesting to tommy because he looked to be about seven years old. this was the youngest that either of them looked in any picture. the youngest of the other boy, the one with curly brown hair, seemed to be around eleven or twelve.

the boy with the pink hair must've been techno. tommy had been told that techno was seventeen- a year older than him- and was the first to be fostered and adopted by phil. wilbur must be the boy with the brown curly hair. techno didn't seem to be very photogenic. he never really smiled in his photos, and he never really looked at the camera. it wasn't that he looked particularly bad in them, it just seemed that he didn't really like them.

wilbur, on the other hand, looked like he was born to have photos taken of him. he was smiling brightly in each one, and he had basically the perfect smile. seeing it made tommy run his tongue over his braced teeth subconsciously. great. this family had not only the perfect house, and from what tommy could see of the fridge from his seat, perfect report cards on the fridge, but they also had perfect smiles. assholes.

"thooomassss," winnie drew out his name, and tommy probably wouldn't have even acknowledged this had he not felt the need to correct her.

"tommy," the blonde intervened. yeah, his name was technically thomas, but he hated that name. it's fucking tommy. snapping out of investigator tommy mode, and into just normal kid mode, he realized that winnie and phil both were staring at him. his cheeks went slightly pink in embarrassment, but he kept an otherwise blank face and uninterested voice. "what?"

"i asked if you have any questions you wanna ask phil while i'm here or anything else you wanted to ask me." the woman repeated herself, smiling. she was used to tommy. she'd known the boy for most of his life, and could tell what he was doing. 

"oh. no. i'm good," tommy knew better than to ask rude questions around winnie (i.e. what the fuck kind of name was 'techno'???) so he figured he'd keep the thoughts to himself.

"alright, tommy" winnie knew how he was, and she knew that if she pressed anything on him, he'd say something that made him seem a lot worse than he actually was. tommy was a good kid, he just said dumb shit like most kids do. "i've got to go now. i've got paperwork to finish up. tommy, we'll talk soon and you know my number- phil, if you ever want or need to contact me for any reason, my number is in the file i've given you," she smiled, and the man, phil, nodded.

"alright. thanks, winnie, it's been a pleasure," the two adults stood up and phil began to walk towards the door to let her out. tommy was grateful for this. it gave tommy about a minute to get all the information he could. 

firstly, he noticed the house was extraordinarily clean. this meant they were either responsible, they cleaned because they were having company, or they had a maid. really, any of these seemed reasonable. 

secondly he noticed that there were a few movies and games on the shelf underneath the television. tommy concluded that this meant that they either had or used to have family nights.

third off, he could see a litter box and a cat tower right next to it, implying that they had a cat. tommy really fucking liked cats. he could only hope that the cat would like him too. 

these things aside, there were the rest of the photos. the ones that tommy had been interrupted while he was looking at. he figured he'd spend whatever time he had left checking out the rest of them.

besides the picture of seven (?) year old techno, there was a picture of what tommy would guess was either fourteen or fifteen year old wilbur with a guitar. he was grinning at the person behind the camera- presumably phil- and his hands were probably strumming, considering they were slightly blurry in the photo.

there was a picture of the three of them at maybe an amusement park? he couldn't be certain, but it seemed to have rides and a shit ton of people in the background, and it had a sentence in the corner. "thanks for coming to" but wherever the hell they'd gone had been cut off by the frame the photo was in. 

they'd both had one picture of them in front of a birthday cake. wilburs had eleven candles on it and he had one hell of a goofy smile. two teeth were missing, but could be barely seen growing back in. the candles were lighting up his face in a flattering way. honestly, the kid was made to have pictures taken of him. techno looked considerably less interested. his cake had eight candles on it and he honestly didn't look like he knew what he was meant to be doing. charming.

tommy analyzed a few more of the photos before he heard the front door opening and closing, then footsteps returning. his eyes moved from the pictures back towards the door frame from which phil had left from. the blonde man returned with a bright smile.

"so, tommy!" phil greeted. he really did seem like a nice dude. well, they all did at first. "you ready to get going?"


	2. why must i be here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tommy makes shopping fucking miserable that evil gremlin child. also, in which we meet some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna upload on monday but tomorrow is fucken war so maybe today is better LMAOOO ,, next update will be next monday but today i wanted to post so that you go in to tomorrow with a smile :) it'll probably be ruined bc yk i dont know whats all gonna happen tomorrow but you'll go into it happy !! okay sorry for rambling, enjoy !!!

wait, what the fuck?? had tommy really just made a new world record in getting un-fostered??? god damn. he and phil hadn't even exchanged a single word and he was already getting kicked out. he couldn't tell if he was impressed or upset with the situation.

"uhm.. what?" he inquired, awkwardly standing from his spot and moving his bag from his lap to the floor. he looked at phil but didn't make direct eye contact, choosing instead to look at the wall right behind him. he wasn't really one for eye contact.

"oh, right, shit, that sounded a bit weird didn't it?" phil gave an awkward chuckle. "i meant ready to go shopping. i know you've got clothes and all, but we ought to get you some school clothes. and other relax-y clothes. ya know, maybe even stuff for your new room." the man clarified.

now, this made a lot more sense. sort of. tommy had never been taken shopping on his first day, and he'd never gotten to decorate his room. usually, the families had clothes picked out for him (he hated them 99% of the time) and his room decorated. done poorly, at that. sensing some hesitation, phil spoke up again.

"i would've gone shopping and all that for ya, but i didn't exactly your sizes and all. plus, i'll admit, i don't really know what all the kids your age like. wil and techno- they're your brothers, by the way- they have such niche interests. i didn't you'd like their sort of thing," the man spent a bit longer rambling, but tommy had tuned him out. he sure did talk a lot. once he noticed he shut up, he tuned back in.

"oh, yeah. sure. okay," tommy agreed. tommy wasn't much of a shopper. you know teen boys, they have no fucking fashion sense. they barely even know what they're meant to be looking for. tommy was no different in this sense, but he couldn't just like- say no. 

"great! let me grab my keys and we'll head out. you can stay in here, or you can go outside or in the car- either or is alright," phil said before disappearing, leaving tommy to decide if he was going to continue inspecting the house or if he wanted to get an eye on the neighbourhood. he chose the latter.

as phil's house would suggest, the rest of the neighbourhood was fucking nice. each house had at least two nice ass cars in the drive. jesus, he wished that he'd been paying attention to whatever the hell phil did for a living, because whatever it was, he wanted to get into that too. 

across the street and two doors down, there was a boy- one that seemed to be around his same age- sitting down and talking to… well.. no one?? granted, tommy was across the street and two huge fucken yards away, bit he could see the brunette boy, and he could see his mouth moving (barely) so he should see his companion, right? all he could see was the boy with the green shirt, flowers, and some fastly moving figures that tommy could only assume to be bees. maybe he was on the phone, or something. 

apparently, tommy had been staring for long enough to catch the attention of the boy. he looked up from the flowers and sort of squinted around, trying to locate who or what was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. tommy didn't look away fast enough, and suddenly eye contact was made and a bright smile was coming across the face of the boy with the green shirt. he waved, and one could only imagine that he did something else, but tommy wouldn't know. he turned away.

phil's car was a lot more family-ish than the rest of the cars around here, in tommy's opinion. honestly, now that he thought about it, phil's entire house seemed a lot more homely. it was very relaxed.

"alright, let's get goin' " phil came out of the house, interrupting tommy's thoughts and locking the door behind him. "wil and techno should be home by the time we get back, so you can meet them then. i think you'll really like 'em both, trust me," phil climbed into the driver's side, and tommy hesitated for just a moment before climbing into the passenger seat. he considered sitting in the back seat, but decided against it because the back seat was for children, and he wasn't a fucken child.

"so, you know where you wanna be going? for shopping and all?" phil asked as he started up the car. the poor man really seemed to be carrying the entire conversation on his back. as if to prove this, rather than give an actual response, tommy chose to shrug. what a lovely kid. "yeah, i guess you wouldn't really know anywhere around here to be fair. we can go to the mall- i think there's one around here somewhere- and you can choose from in there. sound good?"

tommy probably would've given another nonverbal response, had Phil not started driving. he was a bastard gremlin child, but he cared about road safety. not enough to put on his seatbelt though. "yeah, alright" was his reply. he sunk slightly in his seat as they passed the boy with the green shirts house. he seemed to have forgotten about tommy and had gone back to doing whatever the hell he'd been doing before, and though they passed by very quickly, tommy was like 90% sure that the kid had a fucking bee on his finger. what the fuck??? what a weird fucking kid. 

as one could imagine, the shopping trip wasn't thrilling. it was a lot of phil suggesting clothes to tommy, and a lot of tommy shrugging and saying 'sure' or 'i dunno'. really insightful. after a store or two, phil seemed to get it. tommy liked graphic tees, especially ones with game characters. zelda, pokemon, things like that. also, he got like- seven of the exact same red baseball styled tee shirt?? he didn't understand it, and if wilbur, the child of his with the best style sense were here, he'd probably lose his fucken shit, but tommy seemed satisfied enough with it. 

the blonde seemed considerably less enthused (not that phil could really tell anyways) about getting school clothes. as 'luck' would have it, tommy was to be attending a private, uniformed school. that shit was gonna suck. phil explained that wilbur had been going to that school for four. and a half years and techno had been going for three and a half years, and they both liked it just fine. tommy knew that he wouldn't feel the same.

for one thing, he fucking hated uniforms. phil said they'd have to get him those horribly ugly khaki pants, white polo shirts, and worse of all, ties. (phil had gotten him blazers with the school logo on it already. god, even the thought made tommy want to gag.) tommy hated ties. they had to be tight around his neck, and he couldn't fidget with it or else it'd get all loose and shit. it fucking sucked. he'd KILL to go to a normal public school. of course, rather than actually complain, he just made the shopping trip even harder on phil.

he'd say 'yeah.' to whatever the fuck phil was on about. 'kay.' when phil pointed out a piece of clothing that could work for him. 'dunno' when asked things such as what size pants he wore. tommy wasn't a bad kid, but jesus fucking christ was he a bastard.

after what could be considered the most painful shopping trip in the whole fucking world, the two were landed back in phil's car. though he would probably never admit to it aloud, he was glad about the haul. he'd been wanting this zelda shirt for forever. yeah, uniforms and school supplies suck, but school was school, and he could change right out of his uniforms into way cooler clothes as soon as he got home. plus, he got some cool shit for his new room. a dark blue comforter set, a bunch of game posters, and a few miscellaneous art pieces he found in random shops. he could only hope he'd get to keep them after he got kicked out.

the cheeriness from getting all this cool shit lasted… mmmm.. maybe about two minutes before he realized oh shit, he was going back to phil's house. the one where his kids were probably going to be now. oh fuck, oh shit, this was going to fucking suck. tommy wouldn't really call himself a particularly anxious person, but he'd be lying if he said that he was tapping his leg because he enjoyed the rhythm and not because he was terrified of meeting wilbur and techno.

"so, toms," phil began. while the nickname 'toms' wasn't really new (there wasn't really much you could do with the name thomas) it felt really weird coming from phil. it seemed like it was coming from a genuinely good place (could you even say that when it was just about a nickname??) "you ready to meet techno and wilbur? i know they're pretty excited to meet you," phil honestly didn't expect much of a conversation from tommy, considering the most the blonde had strung together at this point was "thank you", but much to his surprise, and probably tommy's own surprise, the blonde spoke up. 

"i guess so. i've heard about them. they sound alright, i guess." he had heard some about them, and he had seen those pictures, so he basically knew everything about them. basically. 

"yeah? i told winnie a bit about them because i wanted to see if you've got anything in common. do ya?" phil saw this as a start. he'd gotten a whole sentence from him! this was a pog, if you asked him. 

"guess so. i like music. i heard wilbur plays guitar," tommy responded truthfully. he did like music. of course, he listened to sound tracks from video games and other bops, and wilbur made his own… interesting music (he'd heard something about a city giving his asthma and another about being in love with an egirl ??) but music is music. "dunno about techno though. heard he's smart. i don't like school all that much," in his own opinion, techno's personality seemed like one that would clash with his own.

"i think you and techno are gonna get on well," phil responded. this was admittedly a bit of a conversation killer. tommy responded with a skeptical hum, and a comfortable (well, sorta comfortable) silence fell between them.

radio music is never fucking good. it's always playing either really oddly old music, or really repetitive music. now, tommy was well aware of this, but whatever shit it was, it would always be enough to go into "tommy world", the world in which the only person to exist was tommy and the only thing to occupy tommy was- you guessed it- tommy's own thoughts. it wasn't a world he always loved being in, especially on moving day. today however, tommy world was okay. he was stressed, yeah, but he was also sorta.. happy? was happy too generous? yeah, probably. he didn't really have all that much tune to think about it because the car was suddenly stopping and phil was trying to get his attention.

"we're back," phil pointed out, pretty pointlessly in tommy's opinion. yeah, no shit. he could tell that.

"right. sorry," tommy unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door. there was now another car in the drive, he realized. this one did not look as much like a family car as phil's did. it looked like a car that a teenager would buy after a year of saving up at a minimum wage job, which sounds overly specific, but one certain car came to mind, didn't it? specific or not, it really didn't look like it belonged in this neighbourhood. phil caught him staring as they both went to retrieve the bags with tommys new belongings.

"wil was really proud of that. saved up and bought it himself- wouldn't let me contribute anything. i think it's ugly, but he loves it, so," tommy could tell that phil was trying to get a laugh from him in saying this, but tommy didn't care enough to give it to him. he just gave a very slight smile and grabbed three of the bags.

as he turned around and closed the car door, he realized the boy with the green shirt once again. it'd been at least three fucking hours and this kid was still fucking here?? in basically the same fucking spot?? to be fair he was now laying down and pointing up at the sky. tommy looked up. all he saw was clouds. the nearest one to them both was obviously shaped like a random blob, bit if you squinted real hard and closed one eye, tommy thought you could maybe see a bug of some sort.

"is that kid out here a lot?" tommy asked, pointing at the kid in the most low key way that he could. phil looked over as he walked around the car closer to the door. 

"oh, yeah. that's toby. he's a real sweet kid. bit awkward, and weird- i mean that nicely by the way, he's not bad or anything, just a bit odd- lovely kid though," phil started towards the door, retrieving his keys from his pockets, which was proving to be a difficult task with five bags of shit in his hands. tommy would've offered to grab them, but phil had before he'd even opened the door. "dunno how well you two would get on, but you should definitely try 'n talk to him"

tommy wondered if phil was a mind reader, because he'd just been thinking that this kid was weird as fuck and he didn't want shit to do with him. like, ever. he shrugged as if he'd think about it and followed phil inside 

he could feel his stomach do a literal flip in his body when he saw two other teenagers seated in the living room watching some cable show. (judging by the irritating theme song, family feud) they hardly even looked ip from their show. well, wilbur did. he saw tommy and grabbed the remote to mute the show.

"bruuuuuuuuhhhh," techno complained, looking away from the screen. his bitching stopped when he realized the reasoning of muting the show. "oh."


	3. in which everything goes wonderfully okay... i guess?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe update tomorrow since i feel this chapter is kinda dry? 😳 depends on how i feel and when i wake up tomorrow.

“wil, techno. meet tommy,” phil was less than pleased with the welcoming. his text had strictly told wilbur to bring home those shitty fucking cupcakes with the icing that basically falls off as soon as you even look at the damn things, yet the treats were nowhere to be seen. he would think that at least techno would’ve coerced his bastard of an older brother to get the fucking cupcakes. he was also pretty sure that he’d told them to be ready and looking nice and NOT be flung across the couch the way that they currently were. what did he really expect? he loved his kids to death, he really did, but jesus christ, they were really going to be the death of him. 

“hey, tommy. what’s up? techno’s voice had basically no emotion to it, tommy noticed. honestly? he wasn’t surprised. techno had a pretty emotionless face in not only the photos, but also just- in general. like, tommy was looking at him right now, and he looked like he’d never experienced any emotion in his entire fucking life. 

“eh,” tommy responded, shifting his weight slightly. this was fucking awkward. what was he supposed to do?? he didn’t fucken know. he knew that he’d done it before, and he supposed that he could do it again, so luckily, he didn’t have to.

“we’re watching family feud,” wilbur pointed at the television where the host stood in the center of the screen. did this shit even play in the u.k.? what channel were they even on? tommy wanted to know so he could fucking block it from his t.v. “wanna join?” there were actually very few things that tommy wanted to do less than that. luckily, techno seemed to pick up on his distaste for the idea. 

“wil, he’s got all sorta stuff to put away. let him get comfortable ‘n shit first,” while tommy agreed with what he had to say, he disagreed with how he said it. fucken feel something, big man, damn.

“alright, good point,” wilbur agreed, looking away from tommy and towards the television. tommy was just now realizing how slow and spaced out his words were. was he high or was he genuinely unconcerned with this new kid staying in his house? tommy honestly couldn’t tell (and didn’t care) either way. techno’s eyes lingered on tommy for just a moment longer, and dare tommy say that he saw a hint of a smile? Before he could tell for sure, techno looked away as well.

“lovely, thanks boys,” phil had a sort of tone that indicated he may literally kill these children once he was done getting tommy settled. “tommy, i can show you your new room and you can get good and settled,” the man shot one final glare at wilbur and techno before smiling at tommy and starting up towards his new room.

the moment they were out of sight techno looked to his brother with a suspicious glance. "wil, you know dad said to get the cupcakes, right?" he asked.

"yup" wilburs attention went back to the television. he knew that they were gonna get bitched at, but he didn't really care. he wasn't going to go out of his way and waste that extra gas money. sure, his dad would probably pay him back for it had he asked, but he didn't want to ask. 

it wasn't that wilbur was jealous or anything, but he didn't appreciate some asshole kid just waltzing in to his house and all. of course, he'd done the exact same thing with techno, but they had both been kids and he didn't think techno had really even noticed anyways. now they were both teenagers that had to work much harder to get attention and there was only one phil and now three of them. plus, tommy was a little shit. he just got the sort of vibe from him.

"you know he's gonna yell at both of us for not gettin' it, right?" techno inquired further, sitting up properly. he and wil had only talked about tommy coming to live with them about once or twice. both times they'd just sorta checked up on each other, made sure they were okay, and that was it. he'd admit that wil hadn't seemed thrilled, but he was a really nice guy, techno knew his brother, he figured he was just having a bit of a rough day or something.

"yup," wilbur looked over. he had the slightest feeling that he was about to be forced into going to the shop and getting some cheap ass cupcakes.

"you know we're goin' to get the cupcakes, right?" techno stood up, taking off his school blazer and the tie. techno fucking hated ties, they were so confining. 

"yeah, okay, i figured," wil stood up as well. unlike techno, he'd changed from his school clothes to his favourite yellow sweater, black jeans, and maroon beanie. yeah, he liked wearing similar, if not the same outfit, every day. it was like he was a cartoon character but better. 

he dug around the couch looking for his keys for a few moments only to look up and see techno holding them out to him. "thanks," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "let's go," he sounded extremely unenthusiastic about this whole trip, but the store was only like five minutes away, so he supposed he'd survive.

"you're so dramatic," techno rolled his eyes as they left. their dad didn't mind them going out to do their own things, so they didn't bother tell him they were leaving or where they were going. he loved his brother, but god damn the guy really deserved his role as the male lead in whatever theatre production their school was putting on. (he didn't really know what it was called or what it was about at all, but he was pretty sure that there may be murder and explosions of schools or something, and techno lived for chaos)

"you're so dramatic," wilbur mocked as they got in the car, though he made his voice go much higher than it was, which didn't make much sense, but it gave him satisfaction. "you're a bitch," for this statement he returned to his normal voice. with that, the two left the house, bitching the whole way to the store, and bringing our attention back to tommy and phil.

tommy's room was the final room to the left of the second floor. tommy liked this placement. if he wanted to sneak out or something, it wouldn’t be too hard. he’d just have to find a way to get out the window without breaking his entire body. easy enough. 

phil used his foot to kick the door gently, causing it to slowly swing open. this revealed a small sign on the wall directly across from the door that read “welcome home”. it was cheesy, but for some reason, tommy felt a slight tug on his heart strings. weird champ.   
“look, tommy,” phil began, placing the bags he was carrying down on the bed, and though he didn’t say anything, tommy could feel the relief washing over him. “i know they were both being little shits, but just know that they’re actually really excited wil had a test that he wasn’t sure about earlier and techno- well, techno isn’t really a people person. they’ll warm up to you, trust me,” phil put a fatherly hand (well, technically any way he put his hand was fatherly, but the vibes are different, you can feel it) on tommy’s shoulder. “i really really hope that you like it here,” an almost comforting smile covered his face. “it’s probably been a pretty rough day, so you don’t have to come down for dinner. i'll leave it at the door for ya, alright?” tommy nodded. this idea sounded lovely. 

“alright,” phil responded, giving a gentle squeeze to the boys shoulder before retracting his hand. then came the bad news. “i wouldn’t usually do this,” oh dear, “but i think it’d be best if you got into the swing of things early, so.. school tomorrow if you’re up to it? if not, sometime soon,” tommy gave a mere nod once again. well, this wasn’t a no. “alright, well, i’m going to go start on dinner. we’ll talk soon. welcome home, toms,” phil finished, giving the most sincere smile that tommy had ever seen before exiting and actually closing the door fully on his way out. 

tommy sighed, sitting down on his new bed. this was a stressful day, but honestly? tommy wasn’t as miserable as he thought he’d be. like, it had kinda seemed like phil was trying to buy his affection by offering to take him shopping, but it hadn’t really felt like it in the process. it felt like a dad taking his kid out to decorate his room. the dude was actually really nice. like, really nice. tommy didn’t feel like a kid getting shoved in with a new foster family, he felt,, at home. ha, funny. to be honest, he wondered who would be the one to fuck this whole situation up. phil, phil’s real kids, or tommy himself. he couldn’t tell yet.

he stood up, inspecting his room. it was really nice. it had a bed that was big enough to fit at least six hims in it. it was against the corner of the room, which was where he liked it. there was a dresser across from the bed with a television on it. it was longer than tommy’s arm, and he had pretty long arms, in his own, clearly unbiased opinion. the television was on and tuned in to some random music channel that was playing jazz. the room also contained a desk with a p.c., a cushioned spinny chair with wheels that tommy couldn’t wait to abuse the power that this gave, and a closet that was opened and empty besides the three blazers that probably had the school logo on it. gross. there weren’t really wall decorations, save for the single ‘welcome home’ sign. maybe this would be fun to design.

tommy slowly began looking through the bags with his new possessions, putting everything where he decided it should go. school shirts and pants were hung up in the closet. the rest of his shirts were sloppily folded and stuffed into the top drawer of his dresser, his jeans and pyjama pants went in the second drawer, and socks and underwear were shoved into the bottom. both thumb tacks and double sided tap were placed on his desk so that he could hang his shit however he pleased.

the boy hung his posters and the rest of the artwork to his liking, smiling to himself ever so slightly. this looked nice. he’d be more than glad to stay cooped up in the room for however long he ended up staying with phil. 

as a final touch, he put the pillow cases on his pillows and put the comforter and sheets on his bed. perfect. it was cozy. he tossed the bags that had contained all this shit in the trash can underneath his desk. he’d only found this because he’d been bullshitting about not wanting to go find a trash can and had gotten lucky that he’d seen it under the desk. done. wait-. he sat himself on the office chair and spun around once. yeah, okay, now he was done. 

pkay, double wait. upon looking around his whole room once, he realized that he didn’t have his backpack- you know, the one with all of his personal belongings and shit in it. yeah, he’d left it downstairs before they left and hadn’t thought to brought it back up once he and phil had gotten back. fuck. he didn’t want to go down there! over his quiet music and whatever was happening on the television downstairs, he could hear phil still loudly whisper yelling at his other kids. that shit wasn’t something that he wanted to walk in on. shit, dude. he took a few minutes, taking a few deep breaths and hyping himself up, he quietly opened up his door to head down the stairs, only to see that his bag was right there. In front of his door. oh.

the fuck? he hadn’t even heard anyone even come up the stairs or walking down the hallway to his door. how in the? he hadn’t been really listening, like, 100% or anything, but he’d noticed upon getting to his room that the stairs were creaky, and the hallway just groaned under his weight, and he was pretty thin and lanky, so if it would creak under his weight, the seemingly lightest of the family, how the fuck would it not creak under anyone else’s? after a few seconds of contemplating on this, he decided that he actually didn’t want to question it. he’d just thank whatever fucken ghost had managed to silently get it there. he picked up his bag, pulled it in to his room, and closed it once again as quietly as he could.

tommy was fucking tired. like, he was ready to go to sleep right then and there, and despite feeling his eyelids get heavier and heavier with every passing minute, he decided against it. he wasn’t really hungry, but he figured that phil would probably preferred that he didn’t waste food, so he’d eat then sleep. that sounded like a nice plan.

he opened up his backpack, pulling out his most prized possession. okay, he was sixteen and his most prized possession was a bunny rabbit that he’d gotten from build a bear when he was like seven. he didn’t know why he loved this thing so much. it wasn’t even from his ‘real’ family or anything, he just had some weird attachment to it after he’d gotten to build it and promptly shipped off the next day. it was one thing that was a constant. no matter where he moved, he had mr. snuffles. he didn’t know why his seven year old self had decided that walter was a good name for his stuffed bunny rabbit, but he thought it was funny now and so he kept it that way. mr. snuffles was thrown to the furthest corner of his bed so that his body could probably block it if anyone decided to walk in before he could hide it. stuffed animals weren’t very manly. he tossed the clothes that he’d owned before the shopping trip into the laundry hamper that was sat in his closet. they were pretty worn at this point and could probably do with a nice cleaning. the last thing in the bag was this stupid pen that friend had given him when he was a lot younger. It was long out of ink, but it had a dog on it and he liked it. the dog’s name was walter. he placed the pen gently on his desk, then stuffed the school new school supplies in his bag. the bag was pretty old, but he refused to retire it because it had a triforce from the legend of zelda on it. it was basically the coolest. he placed the bag near the corner of his bed. welp, he was done being productive for the night.

he pulled his phone from his back pocket, struggling for just a moment to untangle his headphones from the way that they were wrapped around it, then stuck them in his ears. he pulled up youtube and put on his favourite playlist. it was just hour long videos of video game soundtracks played from another room with rain over it. it was perfectly relaxing after a long stressful day. he laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and rather than drifting into tommy land, allowed himself to focus solely on the music. he’d gotten about forty minutes into the first song on the playlist when he heard a gentle knocking on his door. he tugged one of his earphones out and sat up, only to hear who he could only assume to be phil walking away. he waited until the footsteps were going down the stairs before he got up and retrieved the food,

it was spaghetti and meatballs with the side of a clearly store bought cupcake that had separate frosting drawn into a smiley face…? he actually wasn’t too sure, but it looked the most like a smiley face. it was almost pathetic, but he appreciated it nonetheless. besides, the food didn’t look bad. okay, well the cupcake did, but the spaghetti and meatballs looked alright. despite this, he wasn’t very hungry. he poked at the cupcake (the frosting fell off, but that was the most questionable part of it anyways, he felt comfortable eating the muffin-y bit) he poked around with the rest of it, eating a noodle here and there before getting bored. he placed the mostly full plate on his desk then returned to his bed. 

he plugged his phone in, then checked that he had at least three alarms set so that he would actually wake up for school the next morning (phil had sent him a text saying that he had to be up for school by seven. he had an alarm set for five forty.) and put his headphones back in. it really only took about five minutes of mindless staring at the ceiling and listening to bubblegum k.k. in the rain for tommy to feel his eyes close and to fall right asleep.


	4. early risers and new friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tommy wakes up really fucking early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really like this chapter so i hope you do too 👉👈 also how are yall ?? i try to respond to every comment because im a sucker for human interaction bahaha. have a good day !! love you !

no matter what one may say, five am is too fucking early for anyone to be awake. what the fuck does anyone even do at five a.m.? jerk off? write fanfictions?? well, tommy wasn’t doing either of those, but he was watching the clock on his phone switch from five o seven to five o eight. this was a fucking nightmare. he’d fallen asleep wayyy too early the previous night, and was now suffering the consequences by waking up way too fucking early. he didn’t need to be awake for another two fucking hours, and his alarm wasn’t even set for another hour. sigh. whatever. this gave him time to familiarize himself with the noises of the house. the bathroom, which was the door across the hall from his, phil had said, had a faucet dripping in it. it was fucking annoying. if he was awake enough, he would’ve gotten up and turned that shit off.

tommy pulled his headphones out of his ears, then wrapped them back around his phone. it was nice when he was first going to sleep, but now his ears were sore as hell. he should’ve played his music on the computer, or the television or something, in hindsight. he sat up with a quiet groan. his whole body was sore. he blinked a couple times, squinting in an attempt to get used to the dim light in his bedroom. he smiled at the poster of some sort of movie screenshot that was hung directly across from his bed. It was really pretty. he was pretty sure that it was from spirited away, or something, because it was a train on some sort of pink-ish water. whatever it was, he loved it and it was a lovely sight to wake up to. 

after a few more minutes of aimlessly looking around his bedroom, he stood up, stretching and feeling like- pretty much every single one of his bones crack. the floor was fucking freezing. he squatted down to the bottom shelf of his dresser and grabbing a pair of light pink socks. he pulled them on as quietly as he could without sitting back down, which was a process that he was genuinely surprised when he didn’t make a shit ton of noise, or fall or anything during. this was better. he grabbed his plate from the night before with his left hand, using his right one to open the door as silently as he possibly could. he waited a moment to make sure that no one else had woken up before proceeding.

there was loud as hell snoring coming from the room directly next to his. he’d heard it back when he was in his room, but now he could place where it was coming from. he was pretty sure this on was wilbur’s room, judging from both the blurry memory of the previous night where phil was pointing out which room belonged to who, and the collage of newspapers and magazines on the door. now, this didn’t exactly say it was wilburs room- no headline clippings that spelled out his name or anything, but from what he could tell, techno was not the type to have this sort of thing. there was more gentle snoring coming from the room across from wilburs. this one, he remembered, was phil’s, because the man had ,ade a pretty big point of reminding tommy that he could go in there at any point, even if it was like four a.m., to get him no matter what. this meant that the door right next to wil’s was techno’s. he heard some sort of quiet talking and tommy thought for a moment that techno was awake, but some weird noise that tommy could only assume to be some sort of youtube sound effect indicated that the teen probably fell asleep watching youtube or something. 

tommy tried his best to step quietly, but he clearly didn’t know the house well enough to get his footing right, because each step he took felt louder than the last. luckily, he could still hear wilbur’s obnoxiously loud snoring, phil’s much quieter snoring, and techno’s video playing. he didn’t even try to test his luck with the stairs, choosing instead to slide down the banister. it may have been risky in a house he wasn’t too familiar with, but it didn’t creak or break under his weight, so it was good enough for him.

rather than hopping off like a complete dumbass, he stepped off onto the second to last stair, then walked down the last two steps. he walked into the kitchen, dumping the now hard noodles unto the trash. he turned the sink on to about half pressure, rinsed the plate, then gently set it in the sink. tommy had been careful not to make too much noise, and had even gone as far as to leave the lights of as to not draw too much attention to himself, so one could imagine his surprise when he turned around to see a cloaked figure standing in front of him.

upon closer inspection (also known as squinting really hard because the sun was only just starting to rise and the kitchen was still really dark) the figure wasn’t actually “cloaked” per say. he just had a fuzzy red blanket wrapped around his shoulders. he also realized that this figure was techno. this was pretty awkward.

“hey,” techno didn’t seem to care about seeming inconspicuous, because he was just speaking at a normal tone. tommy was pretty fucking confused, because he’d heard literally no fucking footsteps. how?? it was like the guy just fucking apparated behind him or something. this dude was fucking weird.

“uh, hi,” tommy whispered in response, shuffling slightly. he tugged gently at the neck of his shirt. he hadn’t changed into actual pyjamas the previous night, he’d just taken off his jeans leaving him in a shirt that didn’t really fit him, and his boxers that revealed his bruised knees. he shuffled once again.

“whatcha doin’ awake?” techno asked. there was really no tone indicator to his voice, but he didn’t look annoyed, or angry, or anything, just genuinely curious. 

“woke up early,” was tommy’s answer.

“ ‘kay. whatcha doin down here?” 

“putting my plate away,” there were a couple seconds of silence before techno’s answer.

“oh. okay,” techno yawned. tommy couldn’t see too well through the dim light, but the older teen looked like he had bags under his eyes.

“yeah,” his hands moved to tug at the bottom hem of his shirt. phil really wasn’t fucking around when he said techno wasn’t much of a conversationalist. “i’m going back to bed now…?” tommy was unsure in saying this for two reasons. for one, he wasn’t sure if techno had started a conversation for any particular reason, or if he’d just done this to be polite. for another, he was only just realizing how fucking intimidating techno was. he felt like the dude had a whole fucking foot on him, when really he probably only had about five inches, give or take. 

“ right. ‘kay,” techno stepped to the side a bit to allow tommy room to pass. “also, on behalf of me ‘n wilbur both, sorry ‘bout yesterday. we were kinda dicks. wilbur’s just a bitch, to be honest,” this felt like phil had just forced techno to apologize, and so the teen was just obliging. forced or not, tommy didn’t really care. 

“ ‘s alright.” a pause to see if anything else was going to come from techno. there was nothing. “bye” tommy responded, then boom. the conversation ended. that was it. the whole conversation. it was awkward to say the least, but it wasn’t terrible. who was he kidding? it was totally terrible. he headed back up the stairs quietly, almost tripping and eating shit when a white kitty came out of nowhere, the bitch literally just appeared. this was becoming a theme in this house, he realized. it was really fucking cute though, even if it did try and kill him just a few seconds earlier. it took the cat rubbing up against his leg for all of about ten seconds for him to decide that he loved it and it was coming to his room with him. it was fucking adorable.

“ her name is duchess,” techno’s voice rang from the kitchen. it sounded muffled, and considering tommy wasn’t a total moron (usually) he assumed techno was eating. “she likes to be cuddled, and she liked being picked up. if you want” tommy wondered how the fuck techno saw him and the cat, because he couldn’t see techno?? like , at all?? bro , this mother fucker was so fucking weird.

“oh. ‘kay. thanks,” tommy picked duchess up and hurried quietly back up the stairs. the cat didn’t protest in the slightest. in fact, she pressed against tommy’s chest and purred. yup, tommy was in love with her.

he heard phil’s soft snoring, and wilbur’s loud ass snoring as he returned to his room, closing the door gently behind him. once he got settled in his bed, he checked his phone. It was now five twenty six a.m. yeah, cool, he still had like one and a half hours until he had to be up. he and duchess curled up on his bed, then he turned on the television to some random morning television program. it wasn’t good, or even interesting at all, but it was something to occupy him. the house began bustling around at about six forty five am, and at six fifty he heard three different alarms going off. right, now he knew when everyone else got up. well, except for techno. 

at seven a.m on the dot, phil gently knocked on, then opened up his door. “hey, toms, it’s time to get up for school,” phil spoke in an almost whisper. upon realizing that tommy was already awake, he opened the door just a bit more. “ oh, you’re up! and you’ve met duchess,” the man smiled. “well, we leave at seven thirty. it’s a pretty quick drive, you could probably walk there and back once you learn the route better,” the man explained as tommy stood back up. he curled up like a cat or something, then somehow had the audacity to wonder why his body always ached. "you can come down for breakfast whenever you’re ready.” phil offered. tommy nodded at the idea. “great. well, see you,” he smiled and closed the door behind him. he didn’t really give tommy an opportunity to talk, but he didn’t have much to say anyways. the mab probably knew this.

phil was nice. he talked a lot, but he was nice. tommy went to his closet, and given the fact that he didn’t really have much of a choice, it took him only a few seconds to choose his outfit for the day. he dressed pretty quickly, tugged on his shoes, then slung his school bag over his shoulder. he grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste from his desk (phil had reminded him to grab them the day prior) then headed to the bathroom closest to him. there was the one across from his room, then the one across from techno’s room. not only was the door to the one to the one closer to techno’s room closed, but it just seemed more convenient to go to the other one. he took his time brushing his teeth, considering he hadn’t done it the night before and he could hear his dentist scolding him about his braces, using his free hand to run his fingers through his fluffy hair. this didn’t actually help it at all, but he seemed satisfied nonetheless. once he was done in the bathroom, he placed his things back on his desk (just in case) and with duchess between his legs, he headed down the hall. he thumped down the stairs, not worrying much about being quiet now that everyone else was awake. 

“morning , tommy,” wilbur was the first one to greet him. he seemed a lot happier than he had the night before, which weirded tommy out, because who the fuck is actually happy in the morning?? what a weird fucking family.

“g’morning,” tommy responded, standing just a bit awkwardly before phil gestured towards an empty spot at the table where he, techno, and wilbur were all sat.

“sit, we’ve got cheerios” phil pointed at the cereal that sat on the table. there was also one empty seat that was just waiting for tommy. reluctantly, tommy sat. he poured an almost pathetically small amount of cereal into the bowl, not even bothering with milk. his stomach was churning, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he was hungry or because he was anxious. probably both. tommy wasn’t new to attending new schools. his record thus far was four schools in one school year. this one just… it’d have his foster siblings attending it as well. he wasn’t thrilled. 

there was a few minutes of quiet eating, in which the only noise was the sound of four people just chewing and swallowing food. it was pretty fucking gross, in tommy’s personal opinion. after they finished up, for the most part, phil got up and rinsed his bowl in the sink.

“tommy and i better get going. phil, do you wanna come with us or with wilbur?” the man asked. ever since wil had gotten his own car, he rarely chose to ride in phil’s car. tommy followed in suit, placing his bowl in the sink after rinsing it. 

“wil. he’s going to the gas station first and i want to grab an over priced, poor tasting coffee,” techno responded, moving the milk around in his bowl and not looking up at his father. phil would have argued that they too, could stop at the gas station, but he didn’t want to force anything. he knew the transition would be a bit of a process on them as well as tommy, so he was gonna let everyone take their time with it. 

“alright then. toms, let’s go. i wanna make sure that you get probery settled with a schedule ‘n all. wil, don’t make you and your brother late,” phil warned jokingly as he found a coat and tugged it on. he knew that techno would never allow them to be late. he grabbed his car keys from where they hung beside the front door. making sure he wasn’t forgetting anything, he opened the door and held it open for tommy, who slowly walked out. “love you boys, i’ll see you later,” he called as he followed tommy out, hearing his kids respond with the same thing as he closed the door behind him. 

the ride to school was, you guessed it, mad fucking boring, as tommy had come to discover most car rides with phil were. phil was trying to hype the school up, and tommy was just having none of it. he didn’t care if wilbur thought the teachers were really nice and thought that they had an amazing music program, or if techno thought that the english programs were exemplary (a word that tommy didn’t even know the definition of but didn’t care to ask). no school that made him watch not one, not two, but three different fucking videos on how to tie a tie could be that good. this was proven when they arrived at the school.

there wasn’t actually anything wrong with the way that the school looked. it was huge and probably confusing, but he was okay with that. there were a few people scattered about the courtyard, but not many. 

“school starts at eight ten, i think,” phil remarked as he pulled in to the schools car park, bringing tommy’s attention to him. “ we came a bit early, just in case, ya know,” phil continued as he found an empty spot. tommy simply nodded. while the effort was nice, he didn’t mind being a few minutes late to class and pulling the “oh sorry i’m late, i’m new” bullshit response. “i can go in with you. if you want, of course,” phil offered, again, not wanting to force anything. this time, tommy shook his head.

“no, it’s okay. i think i can figure it out on my own,” he tried to put it nicely (he really did like phil) but he really just didn’t want the attention of people wondering why this sixteen year old was walking around school with who must clearly be his guardian. he knew people wouldn’t actually stare or point or something, since this wasn’t some coming of age movie and no one actually gave a shit, but it still made him feel better about himself to go alone.

“alright, tommy, i won’t force ya to take me with ya. If you need anything, just text me. or wil, or tech. i’ll send you their numbers. the front office is right near the doors as soon as you walk in- they know you’re new and all that shit- look at me i’m rambling- i’m more nervous than you are,” phil chuckled. he’d only done this twice before, and it was years prior. he was anxious! he wanted his new kid (oh yes, there was not a single shred of doubt in this mind that this child was his. it’d been less than a day, but he adored tommy) to have a good time at school. 

“i’ve done it before. ‘s no biggie,” tommy said truthfully, tugging at random loose threads on the straps of his backpack.

phil could sense discomfort. he supposed it was time to wrap this fatherly stuff up. “okay, well, i guess i won’t keep ya longer. go on. i’ll meet you in this same spot at three twenty five, kay?” he wasn’t worried. totally not. it wasn’t like this kid was already having a hard time adjusting, and a bad first day would make this not only harder for tommy, but harder for everyone else as well. 

“alright.” tommy hesitated. “thanks phil,” tommy sounded a bit awkward in saying this, but phil felt his heart grow but at least three times nonetheless. an awkward few seconds of silence ensued. “bye,” tommy interrupted the silence and climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. he yelled a clearly unenthusiastic “sorry,” before heading off, and phil watched his youngest head off for his first day.

he didn’t head straight for the office, deciding instead that he’d wait until closer to eight ten. he pulled out his phone. he was scrolling aimlessly through social media for a good five minutes before he was interrupted by some irritatingly high pitched voice. (it wasn’t actually that high pitched, but he was already annoyed)

“hello there!” the voice spoke. tommy wished that he’d put in his headphones, even if he didn’t put on any music he could pretend like he had. alas, he was a fucking idiot and hadn’t. he looked up, only to see green shirt boy from yesterday. granted, he wasn’t wearing a green shirt now- he was wearing the same bland, white polo shirt and black blazer as everyone else, but tommy recognized him nonetheless.

“what do you want?” tommy asked. he wasn’t trying to be rude but- wait, no, he was definitely trying to be rude. this kid was weird. plus, he was totally breaking the unspoken rule to not talk to anyone, especially people you don’t know, before eight a.m. it’s just one of the any not school, school rules. that definitely makes sense.

the kid seemed unaffected by this. “just figured i’d say hi. you’re new,” this was more of a question than it was a statement, really.

“yeah, no shit, big man,” this felt ironic to say considering that the boy he was talking to was shorter than him and almost as lanky. tommy looked back down at his phone. maybe if he seemed uninterested in the conversation (which he was) the kid- toby, as phil had said- would get lost. he didn’t.

“you’ll get yelled at if any of the teachers hear you swearing,” toby warned, cautiously looking around. “real prigs ‘round here,”(who the fuck uses the word prigs???) the boy rolled his eyes. he didn’t swear much anyways, but he thought it was annoying when he slipped the occasional ‘bitch’ and got yelled at. “anyways, i’m tubbo. what’s your name?” well, tommy wasn’t about to not swear, so while he supposed that the warning was nice, he actually didn’t care at all. he just hoped he’d be able to quiet his loud ass mouth.

“if i tell you my name will you leave me alone?” tommy reluctantly asked before doing a double take. “wait, tubbo? the fuck kinda name is tubbo?” he knew the kids actual name was toby, so what kinda weird ass nickname was tubbo?

“well, my name’s toby,” yeah, no shit “but tubbo’s just something i kinda picked up. don’t remember where from,” well, that was insightful. “toby is pretty lame, but tubbo isn’t much better, so whatever you call me is fine,” he shrugged. “also, in regards to leaving you alone, no i probably won’t,” well, tommy had to appreciate the guys honesty. for some reason, he felt like he was going to be getting to know this kid whether he wanted to or not. 

“yeah, alright then,” there was no way of getting out of this. “i’m tommy,” he shoved his phone back to it’s spot in his pocket.

“cool, cool. you live with the watsons, right? i know them. kinda. i’ve met wilbur a couple times, and techno once. mr. watson comes over for business sometimes. whenever my parents are home,” tubbo wasn’t the best with social cues- he seemed sort of oblivious. tommy didn’t mind though. the less talking that he actually had to do, the better. 

“yeah. i live with them,” in some sort of lame effort to show that he knew things too, tommy added “you’re across the street and two doors down. i saw you yesterday,” tubbo nodded at this.

“you know, if you want, we can be friends. we can walk home from school together,” tubbo seemed excited at the idea, and tommy felt like he hadn’t had this opportunity before. before tommy had a chance to answer, tubbo elaborated on the idea. “and i can show you your classes. so you won’t have to deal with all that ‘new kid wandering around’ bull. ya know?” tommy couldn’t tell if he liked tubbo or felt bad for him, but whichever it was, he was pretty sure that if anyone was mean to him EVER, he’d body their ass. plus, walking home with him meant no more awkward and uncomfortable car rides with phil. 

“yeah, sure, big t. that sounds good,” tommy genuinely had no idea what was washing over him, but he liked tubbo. he couldn’t think of the last time someone had actually gone out of their way to get to know him, even if he told them to fuck off. maybe he wasn’t going to be miserable?

tubbo’s face lit up, both at tommy agreeing and at the new nickname. ‘big t’ wasn’t exactly his taste, but it came from a good place (probably) and so he wasn’t going to complain about it. “brilliant! let’s go get your schedule then!” the boy didn’t even wait for tommy to respond before turning on his heel and starting towards the building, and while tommy would usually have been the bastard child he typically was, (yes, there will be a point of calling him that in every chapter) he decided to follow his new friend into the hell hole that they called school.


	5. well , that went downhill quickly !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i emphasized it just a bit in the story but i wanna reiterate , I AM NOT SHIPPING TOMMY AND TUBBO !! THEY'RE JUST REALLY GOOD FRIENDS !! I LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP AND I'M TRYNA SHOW THEM BEING CLOSE WITH NO TOXIC MASCULINITY IN BETWEEN !!! THANK YOU !!! 
> 
> anyways , new chapter pog ?? i like this one a lot , especially the end :) tell me about your day in the comments ot give feedback ! much love !!

'R U sure?'

it was three p.m. on the dot. tommy wasn't technically allowed his phone in class, but he also didn't really care. after spending the rest of the morning before class with tubbo, then spending the entirety of lunch with him, tommy had decided that he would, in fact, be walking home with him. he'd told this to phil, sending a decently generic text.

'don't need a ride. walking home with a friend.' phil's response had been almost instant, and it was like seven different texts.

'What friend??'  
'Where do they live??'  
'Should I just drive U both???'

phil was like the textbook definition of a concerned guardian, and while it might usually be nice to have someone being worried about you, tommy found it much easier when he could just do whatever he wanted with no questions asked.

'toby. the one from across the street.'

'Really?? U talked with him??? U're friends with him?? Toms, that's great!' again, like a ten second difference. how had he even managed to text that fast??

'yeah, so i dont need a ride.' tommy had sent this text at two fifty nine, leading us to three p.m. and phil's question of

'R U sure?' tommy didn't check his phone as soon as it vibrated, given that his history teacher was basically breathing down his neck. the woman had suspected tommy had been on his phone, but had yet to catch him on it, so she hadn't confiscated it or said anything.

about five minutes later when the woman finally hopped of his fucking dick and went to bother another kid, tommy responded.

'yeah.'

'Alright. I'll be at the house then. Come straight home please :)' again, an instant reply. the man had fingers like the flash or something. tommy didn't respond to this, choosing instead to shove his phone in his pocket so that the teacher would stop shooting him menacing glares. 

after a few more agonizing minutes of class, the bell rang. tommy sprang up, being amongst the first few to leave the classroom. he thought he heard some 'the bell doesn't dismiss you, i do' bullshit, but he didn't care, because as far as he was concerned, the bell certainly did dismiss him. besides, he wanted to get to the tree spot before tubbo decided to leave without him. 

after about seven minutes, tommy was wondering if getting there like a minute and a half after the bell was too long, because the schoolyard was slowly emptying, and tubbo was nowhere to be seen. after eight minutes, tommy was about to find his own way home, and after eight minutes and forty four seconds (tommy was counting) a frazzled looking tubbo appeared with his arms full of his papers and his bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. once he got to tommy, he dropped his shit on the ground and got down on his knees to organize it slightly.

"sorry, tommy, i ran into just a bit of trouble at the bell- my zipper opened and my stuff fell all the way down the stairs," he explained, deciding against organizing it and choosing instead to shove it all away. after a few minutes of frantic paper shuffling, tubbo stood back up, brushing his knees off and smiling brightly.

"alright, let's go !" toby slung his bags over his shoulders and started off towards their houses.

unlike the car rides with phil, the walk home wasn't awkward- it was quite the opposite. actually quite fun. it consisted a lot of tubbo asking questions or telling lame ass jokes, and tommy giving half assed responses, or unwilling laughs. none of the jokes were really funny, but tubbo had such a distinct way that he said things that cracked tommy up. 

at one point in their walk, tubbo stopped walking completely and crouched down to pick up a flower. it was a really gorgeous pink colour, tommy noted

"here!" tubbo stood back up and offered it to tommy. "it'll be like- a sign of our friendship or something," the boy laughed at the cheesiness of his own statement. "okay, that sounds lame, i'm well aware, but it made me think of you!" he explained, which actually may have made it even more cheesy.

this was arguably the most corny thing that tommy had ever heard, but it still gave tommy butterflies in his stomach. not like- weird crushy butterflies, but the ones that you feel when someone makes you really happy. tommy really liked tubbo. he only had to know him for a few hours to know that they really were going to be best friends.

(HEY FUCKERS THIS ISN'T A FUCKEN SHIP !! I DON'T SHIP MINORS !! THAT'S WEIRD !! MY BEST FRIEND MAKES ME REALLY FUCKEN HAPPY AND HAS SINCE THE DAY WE MET AND I WANTED TOMMY AND TUBBO FEEL THE SAME WAY !! I'M !! NOT !! SHIPPING !! THEM !! sorry lmao i just wanted to say this before someone came for my throat ! tommy and tubbo are amazing friends and i really want to show it :] )

"thanks, big man," tommy accepted the flower, holding it awkwardly for a moment. the fuck was he supposed to do with it. he absolutely adored it, and was most definitely going to keep it for like - two days - or however long it'd take for it to die, but what was he going to do with it in the mean time?

as if to answer his question, tubbo picked another flower- this one blue- and tucked it behind his own ear, then stood back up to continue walking. tommy followed suit, tucking it carefully behind his ear and following tubbo as they continued their route home. tommy's house came first. 

"if you want, i can walk you home tomorrow," tommy offered, coming to a stop in front of tommy's house. both phil and wilbur's car were in the drive. 

"yeah, sounds good," tommy agreed, holding his hand out for a high five. tubbo obliged, awkwardly slapping his hand. they'd work on it. 

"neat. see ya tomorrow! seven forty five!" he smiled brightly (could he smile any other way??) and waved before turning to cross the street. tubbo was cool. sorta. he turned abruptly before he'd completely crossed, barely avoiding getting hit by a car as he started back towards tommy. "sorry eret!" he called, giving an apologetic wave. the car beeped in response. "sorry i- i just remembered- you should give me your number! or i could give you mine. you know, just so i can make sure you're up tomorrow! and so we can just- ya know, text and all," tubbos cheeks were pink, so tommy could assume he was flustered from the embarrassment of almost getting hit by the car and all. understandably so. tommy would be embarrassed too. 

rejection would probably make it worse- not that he really wanted to reject him anyways. he pulled his phone out and pulled up his contacts list, handing it over to tubbo. 

(AGAIN NOT A SHIP IF SOMEONE WATCHED ME ALMOST GET HIT BY A CAR I'D BE EMBARRASSED AND BLUSHING LIKE FUCKING CRAZY !) 

"knock yourself out, big t," tommy said. tubbo took the phone, both putting his number in and sending himself a text so that he had tommy's as well. then, as an afterthought, took a dorky looking selfie with a peace sign to set as his contact photo. what was this, 2006? we're not in fucking high school musical, no one uses actual pictures of people as their contact photo. they use random photos that they have on their phone if they're feeling generous. they'll probably just end up with their initials. tommy grabbed his phone as tubbo handed it back, changing the name 'toby :D' to 'BIG MAN TUBBO'.

"alright, now we're all set. see ya tomorrow!!" toby turned and actually crossed the street this time. what a character. 

after being sure that tommy wasn't going to be hit by another passing car, tommy started up the drive towards his own house. he could only hope the rest of his day would go as well as it'd gone thus far. 

he let himself into the house, closing the door quietly behind him. he didn't even have to announce his presence, because phil, techno, and wilbur were sat on the couch. only phil and techno looked up from what they were doing- wilbur choosing to keep his eyes locked on his phone.

"hey, toms!" phil greeted with a warm smile, gesturing towards the empty spot on the couch. it was between phil and the arm of the couch. that seemed like a good spot to him, and he would feel a bit guilty just ignoring it and going up to his room. 

"hi," tommy gave a lame wave and sat himself down, pressing himself against the arm of the couch and pulling his feet up close. he didn't bother taking his shoes off. phil didn't seem to mind anyways.

"how was school?" phil asked, putting his phone away and turning his full attention to tommy. he honestly doubted that tommy would care to engage with him, but he asked his other two kids, so he'd do the same with tommy. 

"it was alright. tubbo and i- that's toby's nickname- we sat together at lunch. and we walked home together. says he can walk me there tomorrow too," and though he was avidly trying to sound uninterested with the conversation, phil could tell tommy was proud of himself for making a new friend so fast. tommy was just that type of person. he had a loud personality and people either loved or hated him. of course, phil couldn't imagine being one to hate him.

"that's lovely!" phil gave him a supportive thumbs up. "i told you that you should talk to him! i'm glad you get on so well," the man grinned. he was proud of his new kid! he was doing great! this was great. wilbur finally looked up from his phone. 

"nice flower," he commented, raising an eyebrow curiously. it wasn't said in a condescending tone or anything, more just like he'd just noticed it and decided to point it out. 

"toby gave it to me. said it was a token of friendship or some bullshit," he took the flower from behind his ear. it was probably gonna sit on his desk for the rest of its days.

"charming," he responded sarcastically, putting his phone down. his sassy attitude was shot down in about two seconds with a glare from his father. "you know, toby's a bit of a weirdo 'round school," he continued with a much less rude tone. he actually had nothing against tubbo- like not at all. the kid was super sweet and he'd even brought them some home made banana bread. it was adorable. plus, he could KILL in a skirt more than anyone wil had seen. if anything, he just didn't want tommy's seemingly bitch ass to ruin the sweet being that was tubbo. 

"yeah, i know. said he thinks people don't like him cause of how he acts or something. i don't get it though, i think he seems cool," tommy wasn't too sure what wilbur was getting at here. did he not like tubbo?? was he missing something here?? apparently, neither phil nor techno knew where this conversation was going either, because phil seemed as invested as tommy was. wilbur continued.

"no, yeah, agreed. he's great. i just mean- it's interesting that you should be friends with him. toby's so sweet and he's really nice. you're, well… you know. very different personalities," wilbur wasn't mean. he was a bitch, and he was petty, but he wasn't mean. usually. tommy, on the other hand, was.

"the fuck is that supposed to mean, bitch?" tommy moved his feet from where they were tucked beneath him to the ground. he didn't know what he'd done to get on this assholes nerves, but they'd barely exchanged like three words, so it couldn't have been much. 

"language, tommy-" phil began, only to be interrupted.

"english," was his response. what a little smartass.

"yeah, okay, but yeah, wil, what are you trying to say?" phil pretty much rolled right over tommy's unhelpful input. he loved wil to death, but he wasn't always the best with playing nice. 

"nothing, nothing," wilbur shrugged and turned his attention to the television with a satisfied smirk coming across his lips. techno was looking between phil and tommy, and wilbur. he felt like he should intervene, but he wasn't exactly sure how. 

"no, no, really. the hell is that supposed to mean?" tommy asked, his voice raising ever so slightly and his eyebrows furrowing.

"tommy, please don't raise your voice. wil, stop being a little bastard. be nice to your brother," phil could tell this situation was going to get heated if he didn't manage to keep it calm and extinguish this fire before it had much of a chance to ignite. apparently, rather than spraying the fire with a fire extinguisher, he'd sprayed it with gasoline. 

"brother??" wil scoffed. "phil-" oooof, that was a fucking low blow "i barely know this kid, i'm not going to go around calling him my brother,"

"i wouldn't want to him my brother either! he's a fucking bitch!" tommy chimed in. he was used to jealousy from kids younger than himself that would just throw a tantrum or something. this shit was coming from someone who was basically an adult, an tommy didn't really know how the fuck he was meant to respond other than just being a little bastard right back at wilbur. 

"aye, better a bitch than a little gremlin child," wilbur sneered, still having the absolute audacity to just be spread out across the couch. he looked uninterested in the conversation as a whole, save for the stupid smirk covering his stupid face. tommy, on the other hand, was red up to his ears. "besides, i wouldn't count on you having to call me your brother anyways," wil added, finally giving tommy the satisfaction of looking at him.

"wilbur, stop," phil warned, trying to interfere before this headed where he was scared it was going.

"i doubt you'll last a week," wil continued, ignoring his fathers warning completely and speaking in a tone that almost made it feel like he'd make sure of it. an uncomfortable silence fell between the four of them. techno was sat wondering how the fuck the conversation had come from bee boy ( a nickname he'd given tubbo after learning how often he seemed to talk to bees) to wilbur telling tommy what he was sure he himself had told wilbur way back when he was like seven or something. phil was wondering how reading countless parenting books and staying up till ungodly hours of the night going through countless websites on how to be the perfect single dad had led him here. wil was looking back at the television trying to pretend like there wasn't a huge ball of dread and regret growing in his stomach. he hadn't meant to say it. he hadn't even wanted to say that. he swallowed the lump in his throat.

then there was tommy. tommy was shaking. he didn't know if it was because he was angry or because he was upset, but he was fucking shaking. he hadn't really considered himself a part of the family, but god damn, this bitch didn't have to say anything like THAT about it. it looked like wilbur was getting ready to say something, but tommy didn't care. he stood up, causing everyone to switch their attention from their own confused thoughts to him. even duchess peaked over at him from atop the kitchen counter. 

"i'll be in my room. night," he spoke coldly, not making eye contact with anyone. it wasn't even quite four p.m. yet, but no one really expected to see him for the rest of the evening. 

"tommy, wait," phil tried weakly, but it wasn't enough to keep tommy from storming out of the room and pounding his way up the stairs. how could such a tiny kid make so much noise? duchess was directly behind him. the other three could hear loud footsteps down the upstairs hallway, a slight pause (presumably tommy letting the cat in behind him) then a door slamming shut. 

"dad, i-" wilbur began, but wil was having absolutely none of it. 

"what the hell, wil?" phil was a really hard guy to anger, but when he was mad, he was mad. "i know this is hard for you, but have you considered that this is hard for him too?"

"dad, i know- i really do," wil insisted, sitting up properly. "i didn't mean to say that! honestly, i just- just-" he stumbled over his words, looking hopelessly over to techno fit something. anything. the previously silent teen exhaled loudly.

"dude, even from me that was pretty fucked," techno admitted, rather unhelpfully. you know it's bad when even the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans thinks it's bad.

"thanks," will muttered through gritted teeth. "seriously, dad, i didn't mean it-" he tried again, but phil just shook his head. 

"you said it though. go to your room, wilbur i'll call you when dinner is done," phil ordered, and though he spoke calmly, wilbur could tell that if he dared testify, he'd be lucky if he got grounded for a short enough period that he ever even saw the light of day again. wil stood up slowly, mumbling "i'm sorry, dad," before heading to his room.

"well, honestly, that went better than i really expected it to," techno looked over to his father once he was sure wil was gone, a genuine expression covering his face.

"tech, you're a fucking shit head. help me find something for dinner before i kick you and wilbur both out of my house," phil threatened, though he had a lighter tone to his voice. techno could tell that his joke was well appreciated. 

"yessir," techno agreed, being the first to make his way to the kitchen with phil following close behind. things were calm (albeit a bit tense) downstairs. upstairs was a different story.

tommy was sat on the floor with his back to the door. he was curled up as much as he could be with the cat in his lap. now, he wasn't much of a crier, but when a guy from your new family was reminding you you weren't actually his brother and that you'd probably barely last a week, one could imagine that your eyes may tear up just a bit. especially when the guy just felt better than you in every sense. like, wilbur was pretty. he was seemingly quite popular. he was smart. he was a good musician. tommy was a sixteen year old with acne and braces. he had no friends. (well, except for tubbo) he wasn't particularly smart, he'd consider himself just smart enough to pass. he wasn't a musician either. sure, he could play trumpet, but how many famous trumpet players can you really name?

this was hard. too hard. he just wanted to pretend like nothing existed. he took a few deep breaths. he didn't want to make this a big deal. it was basically nothing, right? like, there was no reason his heart should he racing and his head should be pounding. no reason that the walls should be closing in on him and giving him no room to fucking breathe. wait, why couldn't he breathe?? why were his ears ringing and why was it so fucking loud?? he was pretty sure he was overreacting, but he couldn't help himself. 

he crossed his arms over his chest, shakily tapping his shoulders and trying his best to keep them decently even. after he managed to keep a steady (enough) pace, he tried to level his breathing with the tapping. he didn't remember where the fuck he'd learned this tactic from, but he'd remembered it because he liked the name. the butterfly method. tommy had liked butterflies a lot when he was younger, and even now he held a sort of fondness for them.

with the thoughts of butterflies in his head and the gentle tapping on his shoulders, tommy managed to calm his breathing. his cheeks were still wet with tears, and his eyes didn't seem to have any plans of packing the waterworks, but relaxing his breathing was one step closer to that. he'd completely forgotten duchess had been with him, because when the cat poked its head from between his arms, he almost had a fucking heart attack. 

he smiled as she gave him a curious meow, tilting her head at him as if to ask him what was wrong. "i'm alright, duchess," he hummed, petting her head. he looked up, glancing out his window. it was dark. when the fuck had it gotten dark?? how fucking long had he spent just sitting there?? he shifted, pulling his phone from his pocket with one hand and using his other to keep duchess in place. she gave an irritated 'mrowr' in response to this, but didn't run away. 

the clock on his phone read six thirty. so about two and a half hours. tommy really had no fucking concept of time, apparently. he didn't have much to do on his phone, but he did want the distraction. he swiped between his home pages for a few moments before pulling up his text messages. he didn't usually start conversations, but there was a first for everything. he pulled up toby's contact and hesitated for just a moment before typing up his text.

'hey.'

'ayo! what up?' tubbo's reply came about two seconds later. clingy, but honestly? tommy preferred quick responses to ones he had to wait like ten minutes for.

'nothing. i'm bored as fuck.' tommy waited two minutes to text back despite this. 

'same!' toby answered. there was a bit of a pause where tommy didn't know what to respond with and tubbo wasn't sure if it'd be annoying to send two texts in a row. then, he decided he didn't care. 'i told freinds i met you and they think you sounnd neet. want to jon a group chat?'

tommy hesitated. did he? he loved attention usually, but right now he wanted calm, and ignaff a group chat is calm it's boring. that's the rules, everyone knows that. he was sold on the idea with tubbo's next text. 'if you want the two of us can caLll! they're really ncie, but if you wanna leave jusst tell me and i'll come up with something unsuspicipud!' wow, tubbo was fucking terrible at spelling. still, he got the idea and the gesture was nice. he smiled.

'yeah, alright. i'm down.' almost as soon as he'd sent the text, he was added to the group chat and he received like seven texts in ten seconds.

'niki, you're fucking crazy, joe is NOT the hottest jonas brother, it's fucking kevin!'

'KEVIN???? ERET ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY??? It's obviously Nick, both of you motherfuckers are fucking insane'

'come on eret even i know kevin isnt the hottest one'

'yeah, eret, what the hell?' this one was from tubbo, and as soon as he'd sent the text, tommy's phone started ringing with an incoming call from him. tommy gave it three rings before answering.

"hey,"


	6. a quick note. (a/n)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> black lives matter.

hey , boys , percy here ! i have more of a platform here than i do on twitter so i figured i'd speak out on an important thing that has recently happened in america !

3-4 days ago , a young black man named casey goodson jr. was shot and killed by a police officer . obviously , black lives have been suffering for a long ass time since America is built on systematic racism and all , but this year especially things have been more notable because of social media . here is casey's story .

( im copying and pasting this from an Instagram caption because i have no idea how to add a photo on ao3 , sorry boys )

"casey goodson jr . , a 23 year old black man , was murdered by the US Marshal's task force on Dec. 4th. his devastated mother stated , 'police shot him in the back three times through the door' . according to his family , he was returning from a dentist appointment with a subway sandwich , his face mask and his keys in his hand , and was shot as he entered .

the US Marshal for the southern district of ohio , peter tobin , has confirmed that casey goodson was NOT the fugitive they were looking for and yet still states he believes the shooting was justified . they claim he was driving down the street 'waving a gun' and 'at some point after' the deputy confronted him and 'it went badly'

just how fucking badly does a confrontation have to go to shoot someone 3× in the back as they enter their home holding their lunch?

and this wasn't some newbie that maybe couldn't tell the difference between a gun and a sandwich , this was a 17 year veteran deputy who had been permanently assigned to work with the US Marshals . and this isn't the first investigation that the Franklin County Sheriff's county is facing "

from @alex.albadree on instagram. 

now , i'm white . my dad is columbian , but i'm white as hell , but i stil wanted to speak out because this is fucking ridiculous . black ! lives ! matter ! black lives always have mattered and black lives always will matter . if you can , please donate ! here's a link to donate to !

https://www.gofundme.com/f/justiceforcaseygoodson?utm_source=customer&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet&utm_medium=copy_link_all

if you cant donate , that's okay ! here's a twitter thread of petitions to sign !

https://twitter.com/arianastattoos/status/1336035056511561731?s=19

there's absolutely no reason for you to not sign this shit it's free and it takes ten seconds. every person counts. please please PLEASE do your best to help change our world. we need it. 

this is serious . this is important . black lives matter . if for any reason this made you uncomfortable and made you not want to read my story any more , good fucking riddance . human rights should not be making you uncomfortable . if it does , you're a shitty person and i don't want you reading my story anyways ! fuck you !

if you do donate or sign these petitions , i have immense respect for you and i thank you so so much . good night , everyone . sleep well and remember : black lives matter .

if you dont want to take it from me , here's a list of Minecraft content creators that have also spokeb out on the issue on twitter that i'll add to as more talk (if they do)

-sapnap  
-karl jacobs  
-punz  
-antfrost

-eret

-dream.

-quackity has talked about it in the past  
-george spoke a bit about it on stream


	7. the first time he kinda believed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) i really just wanted a. to share my plans abt the rest of the smp and b. double trouble to hang out , so i hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as i did :) no tubbo and tommy are not being shipped they're bein homies okay ! tell me about your day :) enjoy ! bye !

“hey! sorry it took me a minute to call, we’re talking about the hottest jonas brother. don’t really know how we got here,” tubbo explained. tommy could tell that they were talking about the hottest jonas brother, because he was getting like seventy texts per second.

“right, that’s reasonable,” tommy responded, keeping his voice low enough so that wilbur next door (he’d heard him come quietly up the stairs not long after he himself had) couldn’t hear him. “gimme a second,” he added on, shuffling for a moment as he found his headphones, then plugged them in so that he could actually look at his phone while talking to tubbo without putting him on speaker. “kay, i’m good. now tell me about your friends before i start talking,” tommy demanded. now he was in control of a situation, which was exactly how he liked things. he liked it, and apparently tubbo didn’t really mind it, and he had a lot to say about his friends. there were three that were in this group chat. fundy, niki, and eret.

fundy was two years above them, and was meant to graduate at the end of this school year. he was super fucking smart (had apparently skipped a year) and was amazing at coding. he was from the netherlands before he moved to england, which was pretty cool. his real name wasn’t fundy, it was floris (tommy could see why he went by fundy, he’d probably go by a nickname too if his name was floris) he was also friends with wilbur. apparently the older boy saw him as like, a younger brother or a son or something despite only being a few months older. tubbo didn’t know why, and tommy didn’t even wanna think about wilbur, thus leading them to talk about the next person.

niki was one year older than them. she moved to their school from germany, and was really the only girl from their friend group, not that she seemed to mind. tubbo really liked niki. said that not only did she help him with his english and history homework during lunch and after school (he was okay in both subjects, but the excessive amount of reading proved pretty hard with his dyslexia) but she also loved bringing home baked goods for her friends. tommy was pretty sure that tubbo said that her family owned a bakery or something. he thought that was pretty cool.

eret was last in the friend group. just like the other two, tubbo had nothing but good things to say. he had a (and tommy quotes) ‘super cool deep voice that made him sound like a movie villain’. he was also proudly out and bi (he added on here that niki was as well) and was known in their school for painting his nails and wearing skirts. tommy respected that. he knew not many guys their age were comfortable enough with themselves to wear them. good on eret. 

“so, yeah. those are my friends,” tubbo wrapped up, looking back down at his phone. In the seven minutes it had taken to tell tommy about his friends, he’d received eighty messages. they really never shut the fuck up.

unlike tubbo, tommy had been watching the conversation. in the seven minutes, they’d gone from arguing over the hottest jonas brother to discussing which was better between high school musical and camp rock, though this conversation was pretty short lived because they all agreed high school musical was better (obviously) despite it’s utter lack of the jonas brothers. they were currently discussing the characters that were on their animal crossing islands (they had some newcomers since the last time they’d talked about it) and seeing which were the cutest. niki had said barold, and fundy appeared to be giving a detailed description as to why that was the single stupidest thing he’d ever heard. tommy had never really felt one way or another about barold, but fundy was convincing even him that the animal was not only ugly as fuck, but also had a bad personality. he liked these guys.

“they’re real… characters,” tommy said. “they seem cool. you think i should say something?” he asked.

“yeah, definitely! they think you sound cool too!” tubbo seemed thrilled with the fact that his new friend seemed to like his older friends. 

“right,” tommy nodded to himself, pulling up his keyboard.

‘hi’ nah, that was too unlike him.

‘sup’ no, that sounded like he was trying way too hard- wait. he totally fucking was. he was wayyy overthinking this shit. he took a deep breath and exhaled. he could do this.

‘hey’ perfect. aaaaaand send. instantly, he was hit with a wave of greetings from the three that weren’t in call, ranging from ‘Hi! Welcome!’ to ‘ADYBYUJSHUuhfudfsijij HEY’ and suddenly tommys friend group grew from one person to four.

the rest of the night was full of tommy learning about both his new friend group and his new school. by the time his alarm for school was going off, he knew as much as someone who’d been attending the school since he was young. yeah, it cost him the nights sleep, but at least he knew that their math teacher had almost gotten fired for telling the dean to suck a cock. when he heard three different alarms going off, he told his friends that he had to get ready for school and that he’d see them later, then hung up with toby, telling him he’d see him in like an hour.

phil knocked on his door, said good morning, made sure he was awake, then left it at that. once tommy got ready and headed downstairs, the house just felt tense and uncomfortable. it was awkward and quiet, plus the tension was so thick that the blade himself may not even be able to cut through it. at seven thirty , tommy washed the bowl he’d been eating cereal from, and at seven thirty he couldn’t take it anymore, he said goodbye to phil and stepped outside to wait for tubbo.

home was.. well, it was questionable, but school was definitely much more fun. he had a group of friends that ate together, walked to class together, and talked about other students together. they talked about other students a lot and tommy learned a l o t about his new classmates.

for example, now when he’d be walking to class he could recognize the power couple of the school. george henry and dream. (a person whos surname was rarely brought up in conversation) they were two members of the self proclaimed ‘dream team’ and tommy didn’t have to talk to them to realize he didn’t like them.

dream’s real name was clay. he and his friend group only knew this because apparently dream was tubbo’s brother. he wouldn’t have been able to tell, because dream seemed cold and like a bitch, and tubbo was, well, he was tubbo. tommy didn’t really know how the nickname dream came around, but it definitely sounded a lot cooler than clay. the coolness of the nickname was totally overridden by the fact that he wore a mask that covered his lower face. it was white save for two black dots and a line between them that made a wonky sort of smiley face. what a dick. he also apparently had a friendly rivalry with techno, in which they competed to see who could get the best grades, and who could keep the better gym records. (tommy was almost proud when he learned that techno was almost always winning)

no matter how he felt about dream, he disliked george about a billion times more. he was mean, plus he had this stupid pair of clout goggles he always wore. he was a total bitch. to be fair, tommy supposed you didn't get popular in school by being nice. he'd seen mean girls, he knew how this worked. 

these two weren't all though! he could sit down to lunch with his friends and be able to point out sapnap and karl jacobs, the final official member of the dream team, and the presumed honorary member. those two were best friends (though apparently sapnap- who's real name was nick, like how the fuck did sapnap become his nickname??? that was a tangent tommy could go off on at another time - but anyways, sapnap and dream had been friends for much longer) and were often seen jokingly flirting with one another. it was to the point where no one was sure if they were actually flirting and together, or if they were just two dumbass best friends being dumbass best friends.

tommy could be waiting for tubbo in the courtyard of the school and see his 'brother' (a term he was using loosely in reference to wilbur for lack of a better word) talking with who he'd come to know as 'schlatt and co.'. 'co.' had their own respective names, but Tommy didn't care to learn them. he was mainly interested in schlatt. the guy had what tommy was pretty sure was a boston accent, and was the single most intimidating person he'd ever seen. seriously, even techno wasn't as scary. (don't get him wrong though, techno was still fucking terrifying) there was just something about him that scared the absolute shit out of tommy. fear aside, he really liked the guy and often found himself subconsciously trying to mimic his humor or behaviour with his own tommy-like twist.

all in all, school was alright. tommy was getting to know a lot and he really liked most everything about it. this being said, one could imagine his surprise when tubbo asked him a question one surprisingly sunny Tuesday afternoon. 

"hey, do you wanna hang out?" the brunette boy asked as the two were walking home from school. the past few days had been pretty rainy, so tommy figured this would be the best time to do it. plus, they'd basically been hanging out since they first met. every day they'd walk to school together, hang out while they could, then walk home together and as soon as they got into their houses, be on call until ungodly hours of the night when one of them would pass out, then repeat. it was a routine that tommy had grown quite comfortable with. 

the home routine was not nearly as nice and fun as the nice one. he rarely went down for breakfast or dinner (on the weekend he'd   
gone down for only lunch) and a total of maybe four words had been spoken between the four people that lived there (when tommy was around, at least) since wilburs little outburst. it was uncomfortable, and awkward, and tommy hated it to death.

so when given the opportunity to avoid the bullshit

'hey'

'hey'

'how was school?'

'good.'

'thats good!'

'yup.'

conversation when he got home, he was happy to jump on it.

"yeah, sure," he agreed, smiling when tubbo's face lit up. 

"cool!" tubbo grinned, turning down the street they were currently on. this wasn't the street that they usually turned on during their walk home. "there's this super cool place that i know- trust me, you'll love it," he seemed to realize just how ominous that must have sounded coming from someone tommy had known for only a week that was now trying to lead him away from his house. "okay, that sounds creepy- it's just this really cool field! there's tons if these absolutely gorgeous wild flowers! AND THIS REALLY COOL BEEHIVE!! IT'S HUGE!" he was rambling, both because he was trying to seem less intimidating and because he fucking loved the field.

luckily, he was like five foot five, and how intimidated could tommy be by someone that short. "dude, i didn't think you were gonna try and kill me or something," he scoffed, following tubbo's lead. tubbo's concerned expression was quickly replaced by his dorky grin. 

"great! it's really close!" tubbo walked with a spring in his step, and tommy followed wondering if the other boy's happiness was rubbing off on him. 

five minutes of walking and tubbo humming some random ass tune later, the aforementioned point of the field being gorgeous was proven. tommy didn't really care one way or another about flowers. they existed in pretty shades, but they also made his nose run, and that was all he thought about 'em. but damn, this felt like a flower field from a movie or something. 

"damn, toby, this place is fucking cool," he'd learned that tubbo actually preferred to be called toby when it was coming from him, and while tommy usually tried to stick to this, he flubbed it quite a bit, so it always brought a smile to both of their faces when he got right. 

"i know right!" toby agreed. he'd been coming to this place since he was like seven and his older brother dragged him along while he was playing with his friends. dream, sapnap, and george would always fuck around together, leaving tubbo to his own devices, for the most part. dream would always periodically check in on him, being a responsible older brother and all, but he'd spent a lot of time there alone. once dream and his friends had grown up more, they came with toby less and less, and it was a lot of just him by himself. now, he could definitely imagine bringing tommy here more often.

"there's this one spot- careful, there's puddles and shit now-" tommy chuckled. toby swearing always felt unnatural, because despite hanging with tommy as much as he did, he rarely actually swore. "but there's this perfectly placed tree! it has the beehive, but they don't really bother you," he seemed thrilled as he easily stepped around the puddles. tommy followed a bit more shakily. he loved rain, but this shit was inconvenient.

after a few minutes of silent walking as the two maneuvered carefully around puddles as not to get their school clothes dirty (their silence wasn't uncomfortable like it was with phil, tubbo had this chill aura around him which basically made it impossible to be awkward around him) tommy could immediately tell where tubbo had been leading him.

there was this huge tree with a shit ton of branches that seemed perfect for climbing. the tree was on the slightest hill that he actually hadn't even noticed while they'd been climbing it, but it was just big enough that you could see the entire field (which actually wasn't all that big now that he was stood here) if you were on it. there was this lovely rainbow of coloured flowers, and though they were predominantly blue and purple, he could see a fair share of pink too. it was fucking gorgeous.

"god damn, toby, this is gorgeous," tommy said, looking over to his friend, who appeared to be looking at him and waiting for his opinion. his face lightened with the positive reaction. "how'd you even come across this place? it's not on the way home," toby sat on the mostly dry tree root and tommy followed suit.

"dream brought me here a bunch when we were younger! found it while adventuring," tubbo explained, scrunching his nose upon realizing he'd gotten dirt on his pants. he didn't usually care about getting dirty, but these were his school pants. now he was gonna have to do laundry and shit. lame. 

"damn, dude, who would have thought that your lame ass brother would actually have any good fucken ideas," tommy joked, punching his friends arm gently to show that it was light hearted.

"agreed, man, he hasn't had anything as neat since. he peaked at like ten," he chuckled. he paused for a moment, enjoying the scenery before leaning over and grabbing a few flowers. "hey, i learned how to make these cool flower crowns a long time ago- they're really neat. wanna see?" toby asked, and as he often did, proceeded without really waiting for tommy to answer. he seemed to know that tommy would agree to most anything that he said. it was almost smug. tommy didn't really mind. 

"yeah, sure," was tommy's response, even though tubbo was already starting. he paused. he could watch, or he could follow along. doing is the best learning, right? he wasn't sure if he had heard that somewhere or if he'd completely made it up. either way, he grabbed himself a few flowers and watched tubbo carefully.

honestly, the process was easy enough. you start out with one flower, then put the second one against it's stem vertically. then you're supposed to wrap the stem between the two actual flowers. then you're just supposed to continue like that till it'll fit around your head, then you're meant to wrap the last bit around the second flower. it was hard to explain, but easy to copy it when you saw it. tubbo's was as close to perfect as you could really get. tommy's was on the complete opposite end of the spectrum.

"that's alright," tubbo reassured, noticing tommy's distraught expression. "the first one is bound to be messy. we can try another one," the boy reassured, picking another bunch of flowers

“alright. cool,” he almost said thanks, but that sounded too lame. tubbo knew what he meant anyways. he tried to sound as nonchalant about it as possible, but he was actually really determined to make this one look better. his first one wasn’t terrible, but it definitely wasn’t something he was particularly proud of. he wanted it to look much more like tubbo’s.

he watched a bit closer the second time around, squinting ever so slightly to see if there was any small trick thingies he’d missed the first time. there really wasn’t. It was a decently cut and dry process. he was pretty sure that part of his struggle in this was that his hands were shaky. he didn't know why his hands were shaky, they just always were, but it definitely made tasks such as this incredibly inconvenient.

the second time around, it was a bit better. third time, was pretty nice, and the fourth time it was comparable to tubbo's. they stopped before going a fifth time because both of their fingers were getting sore.

"dude, is it lame to give you one?" tubbo asked, gesturing towards the several crowns that were placed beside him. he leaned against the tree that they were sat in front of. they'd both made four of the ones that could fit around your head, but tubbo had made a few smaller ones that were more like rings or bracelets than crowns. 

"yeah, definitely," tommy nodded, giving a grin, though he was the first to offer the newest crown that he'd made. tubbo declined the offer, and instead grabbed the original one.

"this one's special!" tubbo declared, placing it on his head. they both silently agreed that it looked like it'd fall apart if he even breathed incorrectly. 

"that one's shit, toby," tommy rolled his eyes, choosing one of tubbo's that he liked and carefully putting it on his own head. he liked them all though, so it was a hard choice. he had no idea why this sort of thing would be considered girly, because he considered himself a big man and he knew for a fact he looked badass. 

"yeah, but it's your first ever one so it's special," tubbo responded, making a face of concentration as he adjusted it, trying to keep it from crumbling. 

"fucken hell, tubbo, if you were anymore cheesy you'd make me lactose intolerant or something," tommy scoffed, causing tubbo to snort.

"dude, what? who the fuck has said that ever?" he asked through a fit of laughter. 

"oh shut up, you literally said the word 'prigs' the first time we met," tommy shot back. "i didn't even know what the fuck that meant," he leaned back on the tree like tubbo was doing.

"oh please," tubbo was quick to react. "you told me you didn't know what exemplary meant. you're just a dumbass,"

the two playfully bickered back and forth for a good ten minutes before the bickering became just a relaxed conversation. this was exactly the type of friendship that tommy had always wanted. it was like the losers club, except rather than seven kids fighting a clown, it was two kids chilling and making flower crowns. in hindsight, it was basically not at all like the losers club except for the bond. (tommy was okay with this. he'd choose making flower crowns over fighting some creepy ass clown any day)

tommy was pretty sure he'd shifted from real life into some sort of coming of age movie, because he felt like he could picture this exact scene in several different films. the only thing that was missing was the rain.

as soon as the thought had crossed his mind, a flash of lightning brightened the sky and thunder crashed almost instantly. tommy was either god or some god was listening to his thoughts. he didn't have time to figure out which, because tubbo was yanking him up.

"dude- come on. i forgot my umbrella today," he urged as the rain instantly began to pour down on them.

"ah fuck, i don't have mine either," tommy stood up, quickly brushing his pants off and pulling his school bag over his head to protect himself from the freezing rain. tubbo copied this.

"first one to your driveway wins seven bucks," tubbo declared, laughing like a total dumbass before sprinting off into the field.

"ay, that's not- that's not fucking fair, yoy has a head start AND you know the way better than me!" tommy bitched.

"can't hear youuuuu," tubbo responded, holding back another laugh which he was sure would've slowed him down. he was sure that if tommy actually cared about fairness, he wouldn't be running nearly as fast as he currently was to catch up.

"tubbo you're such a bitch," how tubbo managed to run so fast on such short legs was honestly beyond tommy. he'd been mistaken in assuming that his long legs would provide him with any sort of advantage. 

"cry me a river," tubbo responded, picking up the pace once he reached the pavement, just to spite his friend. 

after only two minutes of sprinting and yelling at the top of their lungs later, tommy was standing victoriously at the end of his driveway, and tubbo was running the last few steps.

"take that, bitch," tommy held his hand out expectantly, and tubbo handed the crumpled and now wet bills from his pocket. 

"i let you win," tubbo defended with a wheeze. sprinting for two and a half minutes straight was definitely not something that he'd recommend. 

"yeah yeah, whatever. i'm going in before i catch a cold. you do the same," tommy ordered with a smile, patting tubbo on the shoulder and seeing that he safely crossed the street before heading to the door.

he was panting slightly (okay, maybe a bit more than slightly - he'd done a lot of fucking running) as he returned his bag to it's spot on his shoulders. he was surprised to notice thay he still had a (now extremely damp) flower crown on his head. he took a few deep breaths to try and compose himself before opening the door. upon opening it, the first thing he saw was an angry looking phil with his arms crossed.


	8. oh shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS SO LATE JFC I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT EVEN THOUGH IT'S SHORT AND BAD HOPEFULLY NEXT WEEK'S IS BETTER! TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DAY BYEE  
> also if you didnt know i made a discord server link is here ok bye
> 
> https://discord.gg/rSTNyFsy8G

"uhm.. hey?" tommy greeted, waving awkwardly. the energy in the house had been tense for the past week, but this was different. it was really, really tense. like how it had been before but times on hundred. had he done something?

"living room. now," phil spoke in a stern voice which tommy had never heard directed at him before. oh shit.

"uh, okay. i'll just go put my bag upstai-" tommy began, only to be cut off.

"no, it can wait on the stairs, tommy. i want you in the living room. now," phil definitely had a 'dont fucking try me' voice on as he started toesrds the living room himself. tommy grabbed his phone from his backpack (partially because he didn't want to crush it under his books and shit and partially because he assumed he'd be getting grounded or something) then tossed the bag to the bottom of the stairs and followed after phil.

"uhm.. did i do something?" tommy asked. he was pretty sure that phil was telling him to stop playing dumb (with his eyes, because his mouth was currently sealed into a tight frown) which tommy normally would, but the only issue here was that he wasn't playing. he was just actually dumb. he had no idea what he'd done wrong. 

"tommy, do you have any idea what time it is?" phil questioned. he was definitely doing his best to keep calm, since he really wasn't mad. he was concerned. his kid had only just gotten home at fucking seven at night, soaking wet. he'd ignored the countless texts and calls. for all he'd known, tommy had gotten fucking kidnapped or something. "it's seven ten," he answered before tommy actually had the chance to look at his phone to answer. "you got out of school four hours ago, thomas," tommy shifted in discomfort at the use of his full name. "you haven't answered my texts, or my calls, and you never even told me you planned on going out or where you were going,"

so he had messed up. to be fair, he actually didn't think phil would even notice he was gone, so it wasn't entirely his fault. kinda. sorta? okay it was totally and entirely his fault, but fuck off. 

"i'm sorry, phil- really- me and tubb- toby were hanging out. my phone was in my bag. i literally haven't even looked at it since we've gotten off," tommy apologized with a surprisingly urgent tone.

"that's not an excuse, thomas," ugh the full name again "i need to know where you are at all times. you could've been hurt, and i would've had no clue. you can't just go around and do shit without saying anything, do you understand me?" phil stared at tommy. the boy gave what could possibly be seen as a nod (he barely fucking moved his head) if you squinted really, really hard and had any imagination. the usually long fuse that was phil's temper finally reached the bomb. "thomas, i said you you understand me?" he snapped. he was yelling now, and man did he instantly regret it. 

tommy flinched back and looked up from the dark spot on the white carpet that he'd been previously fixated on. he straightened his posture ever so slightly and looked at phil, not quite making eye contact. "yes, sir. i understand. sorry," he spoke timidly and phil noticed he took a slight step back. oh shit.

"tommy, i'm sorry," his voice was instantly back to the warm, protective fatherly voice that he used when he was talking to tommy. it was just a bit too late. "i shouldn't have raised my voice," he apologized, stepping forward and placing a gentle hand on tommy's shoulder. he flinched out of the touch. oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. he'd fucked up.

"it's not a big deal, phil. sorry for not saying anything," i didn't think you'd notice. he didn't actually add the last bit on, because it felt a bit guilt trippy. he hadn't meant it to seem that way, he just genuinely hadn't expected phil to notice. still, he kept the thought to himself. 

phil exhaled. parenting was hard. "tommy, look, i'm sorry. really. i can't just let you off free though. for the next few days i want you coming straight home. no hanging out with toby besides the walks to and from school. okay?"

"yeah, okay," tommy nodded, shuffling slightly where he stood. he wanted to be anywhere else. anyone else. just not tommy, dripping wet in phil's living room. anything else had to be better.

phil sighed. tommy was a real piece of work. he adored the kid, truly, but it seemed he lacked any sense of self preservation. "wil and techno already ate- we have pizza. do you want some?" he doubted that tommy had eaten, considering the fact that he was soaked and had most likely been bullshitting around outside, but from what he'd gathered of the boy's personality, he doubted he'd want to eat after their little spat.

"no, i'm good," tommy responded. he stood aimlessly, clearly awaiting instructions as to what he was and wasn't allowed to do. 

"okay," then a a brief pause. "alright, well you can go up to your room now. good night, tommy," he was tired of conversations ending like this. he didn't like the serious and somber tone. he wanted people to head up to bed giggling and laughing, not angry or upset. parenting was fucking hard. he was incredibly thankful and glad he got to do it, and he loved his kids, but damn was it tiring.

"night," tommy responded meekly, then wasted no time turning on his heel and high tailing his ass outta the living room. he crouched to grab his bag from where it laid on the step, and in doing so saw two pairs of socked feet for a brief second before they were gone and the sound of footsteps walked towards their respective rooms where the doors shut quietly. 

what assholes. they had no right listening in on him and phil. tommy decided that they ficking sucked. whatever. at least he had the blackmail material that techno wore socks with pink fluffy pigs on them and wilbur wore socks with some green haired anime chick on them. nerds. 

he hadn't even noticed duchess had been following him until he'd gotten to his room and she hopped up on his bed before he'd even had the opportunity to get into the room. he threw his bag to the ground, hoping that both it and its contents would at least partially dry off by the next day. in hindsight, it was definitely stupid of him to not bring his shit home when he was planning on going out. luckily, he'd noticed that his phone wasn't too wet. that was nice. 

there was basically nothing he wanted to do more than like- get underneath every single one of his blankets and go the fuck to sleep. unfortunately, he was still soaking wet and freezing.

"hey, toms," phil knocked gently at his door. "you should probably take a hot shower- it'll help you fight against a cold. it's fucken freezing out there," his voice was a lot kinder than usual (which was a fucken lot because he already spoke nicer than anyone tommy had ever known) he was most likely trying to make up for shouting earlier. tommy supposed he appreciated it.

"kay," tommy responded, then added on. "i will," he'd actually been planning on showering anyways, but he was glad he'd been given confirmation nonetheless. he grabbed some new boxers and some random legend of zelda shirt before turning the television on to the first music channel that he saw (jazz, if you were curious) before looking around his room to see if hr needed anything else. he decided to grab his his toothbrush, toothpaste, and a pair of socks, then turned off his light and left his room. he kept the door open just a crack in cade duchess wanted out while he was gone.

he could hear the television on downstairs as he crossed the hallway to the bathroom. he could also hear wilbur in the room next to his playing guitar. he wasn't sure if he'd been trying to pretend he wasn't eavesdropping before, or if he'd just decided to start playing. he was also pretty sure if he heard the same chords played in the exact same progression with no flare or lyrics that wilbur had been playing for the past few days with no sign of progress, he was gonna lose his fucking mind. he knew music was a process and all, but god damn.

he heard nothing coming from either phil or techno's room, so he could only assume that one or both of them were downstairs watching television. actually, no, he knew for sure that phil was because he could remember hearing him walking down the stairs, but he had no idea about techno.

he'd learned everyone's footsteps quite well, to the point where he could recognize who was coming up the stairs or down the hall. phil was loud, and wil was quite a bit quieter since he tended to come home at like 3am (giggling and on the phone, so tommy was pretty sure he was high or something) but techno was usually silent. it was crazy because techno was fucking tall as hell, so surely he had weight to him that had to make some fucking noise, but he literslly never didm it was almost freaky.

he closed the door behind him and turned the water in the shower as hot as it'd go. he looked in the mirror as he waited for it to actually heat up. his nose was red and his eyes were pink-ish. he was definitely going to catch a cold. oh well. he had a decently crumpled flower crown on his head. damn. the combination of his backpack and the rain had fucked it up. he hoped tubbo would make him a new one. he took it off of his head and placed it gently on the counter (not that setting it down gently did much to help it) his usually light and fluffy hair was now dark and hanging down in his eyes. he couldn't wait for a fucking nap.

he stripped of his school clothes, trying his best to spread them across the counter ao that they could dry off, at least slightly. stepping into the shower was a refreshing change. he actually hadn't realized how fucking cold he'd been until his skin basically burned the fuck off. he didn't mind it though, he appreciated the warmth.

the shower is definitely the best place to think. by the time you turn sixteen and you've been showering by yourself for like twelve or thirteen years, you don't even have to really think about like- actually showering. you can just think about everything else that's going wrong in your life. or sing show tunes. 

phil yelling at tommy was fucking terrifying. the man was really sweet, but when he yelled, it felt like tommy may fucking die from the sheer force or something. scary shit. still, he was fairly certain that the man would never hurt him, so he really should relax, right?

other than being a complete dumbass, he'd had a nice day. he was glad that tubbo had forced himself into getting to know him, because the guy was actually great. he liked having a best friend. he blinked shampoo out of his eye, grumbling swears to himself at the sting. 

on the other hand, a decently important part of being in a foster home was well.. the family you were sharing the home with. the family he was with was.. rough? he really liked phil, he'd decided this pretty early on. he didn't want to or try to get on the man's nerves, he'd just done it on accident because he was a dumbass. he didn't really feel one way or another about techno, considering they'd exchanged about three words a day. never a really meaningful conversation, but enough to show that neither of them really held malice towards the other. then there was wilbur.

fuck wilbur. wilbur was a bitch and a half, and tommy hated him. he didn't care about the stupid, half assed apologetic glances that the older shot at him from across the breakfast table, he was a bitch. if he was actually sorry, he'd actually apologize, not just look like a kicked puppy or something, the fucker. he realized he was scrubbing his strawberry scented body wash (yeah he was a teenage boy, but he had taste when it came to soap, mind your own fucking business) just a bit too aggressively upon thinking about his brunette 'brother' because both his arms and his chest were more red from scrubbing than the now lukewarm water. 

he washed the soap off, did the same with his conditioner, then turned the water off. he probably would've stayed in the shower longer, just thinking, had it not started getting colder as he was washing the soap away.

he toweled himself off with his plain white towel, then let it drop to the floor as he pulled on his pyjamas. once he was properly dressed, he wet his toothbrush, put toothpaste on, and started on his teeth. he used his free hand to wipe the steam from the mirror, not the whole thing, just enough to see his face. he had acne, but it was starting to clear up a bit. at this rate, it'd be gone within the next few days. he also had bags under his eyes from staying up until like four a.m. on call with tubbo, and doing the unholy amount of homework they'd been assigned so early in the school year. he did notice that his bags weren't as prominent as techno's. he wondered if techno slept. 

once he was pretty sure his teeth were clean enough, he gathered up his school clothes (keeping them far away enough from his body so that his new shirt didn't get wet) and his towel. once he was sure that the bathroom was tidy, he turned off the light and just stood for a moment. quiet guitar music was still playing, and the sound of the television was now coming from phil's room rather than downstairs. 

he opened the door to see no one in the hallway. perfect. upon crossing the hallway to his room, he realized his door was cracked a bit more than when he'd left. duchess had probably gotten bored of waiting for him and went off to do other cat things. fair enough. he pushed the door the rest of the way open and dropped his clothes on the floor, turning his light on. duchess was in more or less the exact same spot that she'd been in when he'd left. she must've changed her mind about doing cat things and came back to wait? weird. it was only after he'd closed his door and turned towards the television and desk that he realized someone was sitting in his spinny chair.

he gave a rather manly (in other words, and almost embarrassingly high pitched) yelp and dropped his phone, which he'd only just picked up. "dude- literally what the actual fuck are you fucking doing???" tommy asked as he crouched to pick up his phone. 

"sittin' here. i was waitin' for you," the pink haired teen explained, not moving from his spot. again, he had a familiar red, fuzzy blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape. he really had it like 80% of the time that tommy saw him.

"okay- well first, you didn't ask, and second, it was basically pitch fucking black in here? what the fuck is wrong with you?" tommy hadn't had an issue with techno before, but if him sitting in his room in the dark like some sort of murderous crazy person was going to be a reoccurring thing, they were definitely going to have a problem. 

"dramatic affect," was techno's simple explanation. ah, yeah, that made sense. the teen pulled his legs up in the chair so that he could sit criss crossed.

"don't get comfortable, you're not staying here. you can't just come in my room," tommy sat on his bed. despite practically telling techno to get lost, he wanted to know where this was going. luckily, techno seemed to have no regard for what tommy was saying and planned on explaining himself anyways. 

"yeah. kay. anyways, i was just seeing that you were okay. dad was real upset with himself for yelling, and so i just wanted to show him that you were alright," techno didn't sound completely truthful, and if tommy didn't know any better, he might think that the pink haired teen was actually concerned for him and not just trying to convince his dad. 

"i told him i'm fine. he barely even raised his voice at me," tommy tapped the spot next to him on his bed gently in an attempt to draw duchess closer to him. it worked. the cat got up with a dramatic groan and moved to where tommy's hand was so she could be pet. "tell him i'm sorry again, or whatever," he added, looking from duchess over to techno. 

"yeah, i will," techno stood up. "you know, wil's pretty sorry too," he said. he hadn't really talked to wil about it, but he knew his brother. he knew that he wouldn't even be sleeping to put work into that song if he was actually putting work into it. 

"yeah? well, wilbur can suck it. get out of my room," he used the hand that wasn't petting duchess to shoo techno away. little bastard.

"fine. don't stay up until five a.m. on the phone with dream's brother again. you two make it really hard to actually focus on my homework," techno said as he headed towards the door, letting himself out. 

"you're not in charge of me, bitch," tommy responded, resulting in a swift middle finger from techno before the door was closed save for a slight sliver. what a dick.

he checked his phone as he stood up and closed it the rest of the way to see like twenty texts from tubbo (granted most of them weren't more than one word) and two hundred plus messages from the group chat with eret, niki, and fundy. tommy had gotten to name the chat and had chosen 'the better dream team', though the chat rarely kept a single title for more than a day. (a few notable ones that tommy had found funny were 'ruh roh' , 'fuckers', 'eret thinks kevin is the hot one', and 'eret is tasteless and bad')

he clicked on tubbo's messages first. the first four were checking and making sure he was okay, and the rest were incomprehensible spam. then the last two were 'call??' and 'call me or uglly'. tommy chuckled.

'no call tonight, big man, i think i caught a cold from the rain. text.'

'yoyre a bitch. dre yelled at me for not telling him where i was D: what's your damage?' tubbo answered immediately. why couldn't he just ask what had happened? tommy was pretty sure he hadn't even used the phrase 'whats your damage' properly. 

'phil yelled at me too lmao. can't hang out besides walking to/from school for the next few days.'

'DD:'

'agreed big man'

'L. anyway, chec group chhat, fundy has been spaming for your atttention for ten minute'

'k' he clicked to the group chat. fundy didn't actually need anything important, it was just fundy being fundy and doing fundy things.

he was much faster to fall asleep when he wasn't in call, the idea drawing him in with all sorts of thoughts. techno being in his room, wil allegedly being sorry, phil yelling at him, and thanks to the group chat (which was now titled TOBY'S BITCHES LMAO) who was a bigger bitch between dream and schlatt. things could be worse.


	9. the ✨ christmas special ✨

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYO PLEASE READ THIS SHIT FIRST LMAO IT'S VERY DISAPPOINTING
> 
> hey, boys! percy here! i would just like to say a few things about this chapter. firstly, none of this has any place in the canon story, i just really really wanted to write some holiday fluff.
> 
> secondly, this was a complete last minute thing. i had absolutely no plan or idea for this until literally 3am and i didn't finish until 5am, so if it seems weirdly paced or anything it's because im exceptionally sleep deprived!
> 
> thirdly, considering this chapter is coming out now, early, and it's actually pretty fucking long, i think im either going to skip this sundays chapter and post again next sunday as scheduled, or push sundays update back a bit because it's not finished lmao, we'll see on sunday.
> 
> all of this being said, i really hope you liked this chapter! i was actually pretty surprised with how it turned out and i thought it wad pretty cute :) merry christmas if you celebrate christmas, and if you don't, i hope you have a greay day!! much love to you!!!

christmas wasn't really something that tommy particularly cared for. he would even go as far as to say it was his least favourite holiday.

it wasn't a bad holiday or anything, but the last thing that he wanted (or even needed) was another pair of socks or some underwear to add to his overflowing drawer. plus, other holidays were just better.

this being said, the grimace on his face when he was awoken much earlier than he would've liked to have been on christmas morning was more than noticeable.

"tommyy," phil drew out. "it's time to wake upppp," 

tommy groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. "it's winter break," he argued "that literally means i don't have to get up until like noon," he turned so that his back was facing his dad.

"but it's christmas," phil explained, turning the light on despite it having no real affect considering his kid had a pillow over his head and all. "we have presents and shit to open,"

tommy groaned once again. "but phillll," he whined.

"downstairs in five or i'm sending techno up with iced water," phil hummed cheerfully, turning and closing the door behind him as he headed back down stairs to the living room where the other two kids sat waiting. they'd grown accustomed to waking up at 10am on one of their few days of break.

tommy groaned. he doubted phil was playing, and he'd prefer that his blankets (and himself) wouldn't be drenched in fucking freezing water, so he sat up reluctantly, throwing his pillow across the room. duchess, who'd been laying at his feet, jumped up and glared over at tommy.

"sorry, duchess," tommy apologized, reaching over and stroking the cat. he would've loved to just sit there and do that, but the countdown timer to techno and iced water was rapidly decreasing. 

he stood up and pulled on some random pair of socks (they weren't matching- just one green one and one rainbow sock) and the stupid fucking christmas sweater that phil had gotten for him. it had a big ass T over the front like he was in a Harry Potter movie or something, and though it was really fucking itchy, and he was a petty fucking teenager, he liked it deep down. 

after standing and petting the cat for a few more minutes, he picked her up (receiving only a few meows in protest before she relaxed) and opened his door. he'd already wished his friends a merry christmas, pretty much as soon as the clock hit midnight, so he just left his phone where it sat. he turned his light off and closed the door, turning to the hallway only to see techno on the top step with a glass of ice water and a menacing grin.

the grin faltered once he actually saw tommy. "awee.. i was hoping you'd still be in bed," he made a frown that was quickly replaced with the familiar slight smile that had become his usual expression as of late. "you're holding the cat in case i ran into in the hallway, aren't you?" he asked. 

"yup," tommy nodded, meeting techno at the top stair, then the two of them started down at the same time.

"smart play. duchess would kill me if i dumped water on her," 

"yeah, i know. i'm the smartest man ever," tommy grinned.

"oh, are you?" wilbur's voice chimed in from the couch, a skeptical look falling across his tired face. the coffee that he'd currently managed to down two cups of in the last fifteen minutes wasn't doing much for him.

"yeah, i am," tommy sat on the floor beside the couch, waiting for techno to return from the kitchen cup-less before releasing the cat. she hopped on the arm rest right beside his head and relaxed.

"yeah, okay. whatever you say, big man," phil smiled. his kids were idiots, but good idiots that he loved dearly. "you three ready for presents?" he gestured towards the huge tree that sat in the dead center of the living room. in hindsight, the placement of the tree was actually a terrible idea considering if you sat on the actual couch you couldn't see the television.

"as long as it means we can get rid of the tree after we open them," techno sat on an armchair, retrieving his blanket from where he'd left it and wrapping it around his shoulders.

"agreed," two voices added on.

"god, all you children know is bitch," phil rolled his eyes, handing each kid seven presents. he'd made sure that they'd all gotten the same number- one from each other and five from himself. he didn't spoil them or anything. totally not. "go on. open 'em," he urged, smiling as he grabbed the few that were labelled with his own name.

tommy waited until everyone else had started fucking with their shit before starting with his own first present. it was wilbur's. upon unwrapping it, he learned that it was a stuffed sheep with blue wool and what looked to be a nametag wrapped as a necklace around its neck. it read friend. it was actually pretty cute. "wil, this is cool," he looked up with a dorky grin. wilbur nodded.

"i know, right? i knew you'd like it," he said proudly. 

"don't get a bigger head than you alreadh have," tommy rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the presents at hand.

the second one was techno's. he'd given him two different things wrapped into one package. the first was post cards- not just randon post cards, but one's that had screencaps from differeng studio ghibli movies on each one. decorate your wall with these or somethin' a little post it note that was stuck onto the box read. the other thing was a little journal with no face from spirited away on the cover. tommy smiled. techno knew him well. spirited away was his second favourite movie, and studio ghibli in general was really cool.

"tech- these are fucking sick," he smiled at his brother, who shrugged in response.

"i thought so. i wasn't too sure what to get you," he tried seeming nonchalant, but tommy was more than one hundred percent sure this was bullshit. tommy had a few different journals that he kept shit in. the 'shit' ranged from polaroids he'd taken with tubbo, to reminders of what his English homework was. it was random, but he liked it. the journal was totally a planned thing. 

the rest were all from phil. now, author could go into detail about each different gift, but considering it's currently four a.m. for her, she's going to summarize. from phil, he ended up with a switch and animal crossing, as well as a few other games for it ("your friends- tubbo, niki and them- they ralk about animal crossing a lot so i thought you'd wanna play too" he explained) several different posters from a few different ghibli movies (ponyo, howl's moving castle, my neighbor totoro, and kiki's delivery service) that would fit perfectly with techno's postcards, a new headset, (they were pink with cat ears and phil, techno, and wilbur seemed to think this was the funniest fuckin thing. tommy was less amused) a new set of pyjamas, and finally, socks and underwear. tommy was actually less disappointed than he thought he'd be upon recieving them.

despite being the last to start opening shit, he wasn't the last done. he looked up from his shit to see will finishing up, and techno scrolling through his phone. phil was looking through the book that techno had gotten him. (it was called like- the art of war or something)

the blanket around techno's shoulders was replaced with a cape that had been tommy's gift to him. he'd found it when he was forced to go to a thrift shop with his friends (long story short, they were all absolutely tired of his terrible fashion sense and had forced him to find new clothes for cheap) and it had screamed techno. it was clearly homemade, a bit rough around the edges and all, but it was actually really neat, and had a golden clasp that kept it in place. it was way cooler than the fuzzy red blanket that he wore. now he had a fuzzy red cape.

looking at wil, he was unpackaging what tommy had given him. it was a pack of ten different guitar picks, but they were all customized to wilbur. well, tommy hadn't customized them personally, but he'd found ones that he knew wil would like. there were two different orca ones, one that had a salmon on it (he didn't know why wil liked salmon, but he did) two yellow ones, since it seemed to be his favourite colour, one with the earth on it, one with a map on it, one with a pixelated sort of computer on it, one that said 'Wil' (this one he'd actually chosen the text on) and the final one was a crudely close up picture of wilbur's face. he'd sent the photo to tommy once and he'd found that shit hilarious and had found some sketchy ass website so that the it could haunt wil forever.

for phil's gift, tommy, wil, and techno had all joined forces and taken a shit ton of random pictures together, of one another, and of random things that made them think of phil, and slapped together a scrapbook of sorts. there were stickers, glitter, commentary from the three of them- the whole nine yards. it was stupid, and goofy, but heartfelt, and from the way that phil was looking through it, tommy knew he appreciated it. 

once everyone was done opening everything, and the wrapping was properly thrown away- phil made sure they got every last scrap of it- they sat down together for a proper christmas breakfast. their father had made the absolute most cheesey breakfast possible. there were pancakes that had terribly drawn Santa's on them (calling him santa was a reach, he looked more like some crazed man with a shit ton of facial hair) and eggs and bacon that were shaped into a smiley face. everything was slightly cold considering they'd opened presents first, but it was fun nonetheless.

"so, how are we feeling boys?" phil asked once they all sat down, looking at his three children. techno had the cape that tommy gifted on, as well as an actually really fancy looking golden crown (it wasn't actual gold, it was really convincing looking plastic) that wilbur had given to him. "techno, honey, you look absolutely ridiculous," he added on, causing both wilbur and tommy to burst out laughing.

"i'm royalty," techno shrugged the insult off, rolling his eyes and taking a bite of mildly cold eggs (which were the worst type of eggs, if you didn't know) "i like it. better than some pig plush," he shot back, though in reality, he absolutely loved the pig plush that his father had given him to death. he already had a myriad of pig plushies, but every new one was still interesting as hell. he didn't know what he'd name him yet, but he was sure something would come to him soon.

"yeah, at least he didn't get cat ear headphones," wilbur snorted, recieving a glare from tommy. "okay, listen, the box says that they light up, which is way fucking cool anyways, so fuck off," tommy flipped the brunnette off.

"language," phil intervened before wilbur could retort.

"english," both tommy and wilbur responded. they reached across the table to fist bump each other. (techno thought it was stupid at first, but tommy had been really persistent, and techno eventually gave in. he still thought it was dumb)

"god, you children are demons. no swearing at the dinner table or else," phil threatened. they didn't know what the 'or else' was, but they knew better than to go against their dad. they didn't really care anyways, they were just smartasses.

"i for one quite like my presents," wilbur said with a snobby tone. "the clock is actually really cool, dad! i've-"

"been wanting one for my room for a while," tommy finished in a mocking way to his words. "honestly, you've said it about two thousand times. who is that fucking eager for a clock?" he rolled his eyes smashing the whipped cream that formed Santa with his fork. "and i like my presents too, asshole. tubbo's gonna be thrilled about animal crossing. thanks, dad," he smiled at phil.

"no probem, kid. and language," he reminded. "and say english- either of you-" he gestured at techno and tommy both "and you're going to your rooms for the rest of the fucken month," it was an empty threat, they both knew, but they kept quiet nonetheless. "but you three really went all out on the scrapbook. i absolutely love it," phil gushed, smiling brightly at his kids. "it's so nice when you three work together instead of bickering back and forth,"

"yeah, yeah, we know, but don't get used to it. oh, and it was tommy's idea," wil said, finishing what was now his third cup of coffee. tommy wondered if you could overdose on coffee. 

"yeah, it was. like i said, i'm the smartest man," he said proudly, the playful confidence wavering before shrugging. "but seriously i couldn't have done with without these two a-holes," he pointed at his brothers, making a point of annunciating the A to show he wasn't swearing.

"i'm proud of you boys," phil smiled. "hurry and eat, we're gonna spend all day watching movies," he said. 

"we do this every year, tommy, so i hope you like sitting down for like twelve hours and watching movies," techno added on. "if not, you better get used to it,"

tommy contemplated for a moment. "is it twelve hours of christmas movies?" he asked.

"oh god no, we don't even watch one hour of christmas movies," wil answered, shaking his head. "it's just our favourite movies. yours can go first this year. up, right?" he asked.

"yeah, up," tommy nodded. "yeah, i basically do that anyways, and i won't have to watch the exact same plot in seven different forms anyways, so it can't be that bad,"

"you say that now," techno warned.

"you're so dramatic," phil rolled his eyes, and for the rest of the meal, the four of them sat talking. a bit of playful bickering back and forth, but for the most part it was just relaxed talk. favourite movies, what they were gonna watch, and what order they werw going to watch them in. after learning that his new family had only watched one studio ghibli movie (it was my neighbors the yamada's), tommy had bitched and bitched until they agreed that rather than watching wilbur's ocean life documentary, they'd binge 'the best fucking movies EVER' (as according to tommy)

"dishes can wait for tomorrow," phil said once everyone had done. "and i'll do them, so no bitching," he added as an afterthought.

"pog," tommy placed his plate and his cup into the sink, before being the first to make his way to the couch, spreading his body across the entirety of it. "no more room, guess wil has to sit on the ground," he stuck his tongue out.

"little fucker, bet. i'll sit on you," wil threatened. unlike phil, wilbur wasn't full of shit. he actually sat himself on tommy's stomach, only moving after tommy almost died from laughing too hard, and phil said that if tommy died then he'd kill wilbur. 

wheezing and red faced, tommy sat up, sitting normally on the couch before the actual issue at hand hit him. "uhm- the tree," he pointed out, still struggling to catch his breath.

"oh, right. the tree," techno sat beside tommy, lifting his feet up on the coffee table before phil smacked them off.

"oh, no, you get to help me move it," phil said cheerfully. techno groaned. 

"wil's the oldest, make him do it," he complained in the same, expressionless voice he usually spoke in. 

"don't worry, wil's helping too, so he can stop his laughing," phil responded, causing wil to actually stop the smug laughter.

"ooohhh, that's rough," tommy teased, propping his feet up on the same spot that techno's had previously been, and that was how tommy was currently sat watching three (mostly) grown men struggling to move one unnecessarily huge christmas tree.

"fuckin hell, why did you feel it necessary to go all out this year," wilbur bitched. usually they put a lazy layer of lights, a star of top and called it a day. plus it was usually sat in a corner instead of in the dead center of everything.

"wilbur, stop complaining before techno and i accidentally tip this tree on to you," phil grumbled. he'd just wanted to make the first christmas for tommy in their house warm. of course, he'd accidentally thrown all common sense out the window in doing it, but it was nice while it lasted.

"yeah, wil, shut up," tommy piped up from his spot on the couch.

"you, thomas, can go start popping some popcorn. and boiling water for hot chocolate," phil added on, causing will to grin. 

"deserved," techno, the only one who'd actually been focusing on the task at hand, spoke.

"mother fucker," tommy said, though to be fair, techno was right and it was totally deseverved. with a dramatic sigh, he got up and headed towards the kitchen.

the two groups worked seperately. tommy having quite the easy time preparing the snacks, and wil, phil, and techno all bitching at one another about how to move the tree and how they 'shouldn't put that there or else they'd fuck everything up'. tommy wasn't in his comfortable place on the couch, but he was finding the entire situation amusing nonetheless.

after roughly seven minutes, the tree was moved out of the way, the popcorn was thoroughly popped (and there was a fucking lot of it) and the kettle was whistling to signify the water was boiled.

"i'm not making your cups, get it yourself," tommy told his family, pouring a pack of hot cocoa mix into his cup, then adding the hot water in after. the other three came from the living room with bits of fake tree and a shit ton of glitter covering the lot of them.

"you're a little bitch, tommy," wilbur retorted, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and making his own drink.

"no, yeah, i'm with wilbur on this one," phil agreed lightheartedly, ruffling tommy's hair to show he was just joking around. tommy smiled. 

it took a lot of last minute shuffling and bustling, but soon everyone was settled properly in the living room. they'd all crammed on to one couch, rather than sitting in the assorted arm chairs, or on the ground, which didn't leave much breathing room, but gave a safe sort of feeling to them all. techno had both his new cape and his old blanket wrapped around him, plus his newest pig plush seated in his lap. wil was seated between techno and tommy, an orca stuffed animal clasped in his arms, and his legs seated in techno's lap to steal the warmth of his blanket. tommy was next, between wilbur and phil, with 'friend' placed between he and wilbur. phil's arm was wrapped protectively around him, and a blanket was covering the two of them.

tommy felt safe. tommy felt warm. and tommy felt happy. as techno reached to turn the light of from where he sat (he had to shift awkwardly and use his foot) and spirited away was started, tommy was thinking about how he'd been so reluctant to get up a few hours prior. he hadn't expected his day to go anything like this. he was really fucking glad it had. he rested his head on wil's shoulder (the other teen glanced over quickly before looking back at the movie) and smiled slightly to himself.

suddenly, christmas was becoming much less boring, and much more, well, interesting. maybe christmas could be his favourite holiday after all.


	10. the fine art of bullshitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey boys, percy here! 8k+ words pog? sorry if this chapter was boring or weird or something, but i thought we could use some nice and chill homies being homies time :) plus i wanted more of tommy being happy lmaooo. im sorry if theres a shit ton of typos the majority of this was typed up super fucking late at night LMAOOO.
> 
> i also almost completely forgot to upload this bc i just am dumb thanks lavender for reminding me lmao. anyways, lmk what you think :) also tell me about your day in the comments, much love! 
> 
> a few other things:
> 
> can you spot all of the references in tubbo's room? and yes dumbass the cat was inspired by the concerning amount of people who originally read 'duchess' as 'dumbass'. anyways hope this chapter made you happy and i hope nothing goes wrong next chapter haha. byeeeeee

tommy's next few months at the watson residence was basically like the first few weeks. it awkward, but much more relaxed. he exchanged a few more sentences a day with phil and techno, even to the point where he'd laugh at phil's truly terrible dad jokes. every now and again he'd join them in movie night (though he usually sat closest to the stairs and left before the movie was quite over)

come december, four months after tommy had joined the family, he and wilbur had yet to make up. they barely even spoke. wilbur was trying to make things right. he never directly apologized, but on his night to choose movies, he always chose pixar films (he'd learned tommy was quite fond of them) when he was a horror fan himself. he'd offer to do dishes on tommy's night. he'd offer to help with history or geography homework. tommy always denied, and usually gave him the cold shoulder, which infuriated wilbur.

well, infuriated wasn't quite the right word. wilbur was more than aware that he completely deserved this. he'd heard the damn near panic attack he'd caused. he really hadn't meant to, and he wasn't really a terrible brother. he was just a kid who was scared of losing his fathers affection. that was understandable, right? 

right?

actually an okay brother or not, tommy wanted nothing to do with wilbur. the guy was basically eighteen anyways. he'd probably move out. or tommy would get himself kicked out. either was probable.

although the majority of his family was okay they wouldn't be what he missed if he had to leave. (probably) you'd have to drag him kicking and screaming away from his friends. tommy was a big man, but a big man who wasn't afraid of saying how much he loved his friends. 

while the months with his family passed uneventfully, the months with his friends were never boring.

september, for example. in september, tommy began eating meals with his family regularly. he did dishes every third day, and the first day it was actually fucking too cold to walk to school, he asked that phil drove he and tubbo to school. (the rest of the time it was too cold, dream drove them, which was always… an experience) that was it. he wasn't making much of a conversation, and he had to to try antd join in on any of that movie night family bonding bullshit. 

on september seventeenth, tommy had learned why dream wore a mask. he'd properly asked phil if he could go to tubbo's house, and the man agreed. easy as that. this was the first time that either of them had gone to the others house and it was mildly awkward at first. then tubbo had told tommy it was just the two of them there, because dream was at track practice or something, and his parents were away on business somewhere. 

the atmosphere quickly became a lot more laid back, and being the two teenage boys they were, they headed towards the kitchen.

"oh! i know what we could do!" tubbo said as he opened the fridge. "we should try and make cookies! like niki's!"

"toby, niki's family is bakers and we're idiots," tommy pointed out uncertainly. he didn't know about tubbo, but he for one, had never tried making cookies from scratch like niki did. he didn't trust himself with getting the right amount of ingredients, and he loved tubbo to death, but that bitch couldn't read for shit, which did seem like a bit of a must with baking.

"you make a fair point," tubbo agreed, staring into the fridge for a moment longer before pulling out some store bought pre-made cookie dough. he wasn't sure who had gotten it or why they'd gotten it, considering he and dream never cooked anything and his parents weren't around often enough to do it either, but it was really fucking convenient. "what if we just made this stuff and say we made it from scratch?" he proposed.

"see, toby, this is why we're friends. you have amazing ideas. sometimes," tommy hopped up on the counter to sit, rather than sitting at the dining table like four feet away. no real reason, other than the fact that he's a goblin and all.

"yeah, i come up with the best ideas," he replied sarcastically. a memory of how only a week prior they'd both gone and ran home in the rain and consequently caught colds. yup, the best ideas. "turn the oven to bake. it should be at the same temperature already," like i said, they don't cook. tubbo started looking through the cupboards, opening two or three before he found what he was actually looking for. a baking tray. 

"kay," tommy reached over from where he sat, barely being able to turn the knob from where he sat. luckily, he had some long ass arms. "done,"

"thanks," tubbo busied himself with putting the cookie dough on the baking sheet. after the bag that he was taking the dough from was empty and the cookies were decently sized (sort of) and spaced out (enough) he tossed the bag in the trash. 

"when does dré get home?" tommy asked for the red light to turn off on the oven, signifying it was preheated. 

"dunno. depends on if he hangs out with gogy and snapmap afterwards," tubbo answered, causing tommy to chuckle. the two dumb ass nicknames came from simple typos (how tubbo managed to misspell george to gogy was beyond tommy) that they had decided were the funniest things in the whole world. 

"don't forget karlos," tommy added. some kid from their school- it was alex, or alexis, or something- but he dubbed himself quackity (seriously this school needed normal fucking nicknames) had jokingly called karl 'karlos' and it was since added to their list of nicknames that were slightly wrong.

"yes, and karlos, of course," tubbo added. ,but yeah, he's usually with them so he probably won't be back until late. why ask?" he inquired, looking at anything but the oven. he took the 'a watched pot never boils' expression very seriously.

"figured we could try seeing if it works on him first. before we fool the boys, ya know," tommy explained. 'the boys' was the name that most commonly referred to eret, fundy, and niki. niki had agreed to being one of the boys, because coming up with a decent group name was hard, so it was either 'the boys' or 'the bitches'. 

"good idea. we'll see," tubbo nodded, putting the baking sheet in the oven once he heard the click of the light turning off.

"and people say baking is hard," said tommy, who'd done absolutely nothing, as he hopped off the counter.

"yeah, what idiots," tubbo, who'd done about one percent more work than tommy had, agreed. "wanna go up to my room? we could watch something on the t.v. or something," he suggested.

"yeah, alright, lead the way," tommy replied. tubbo's house was like- as nice as phil's house but times seven hundred. the majority of the furniture was white. it was so surprisingly pristine that tommy almost doubted that two teenage boys lived there. especially two teenage boys that spent a surprising amount of time outside. the wall decor was super fucking boring. the only thing that stuck out were two bedroom doors. one read 'ToBEE' and had little print out bees on it. the other read 'Dream' and had little smiley faces- the same one from the mask that he wore- all over it. tommy assumed they were both tubbo's doing. 

the bedroom, unlike the rest of the house, definitely screamed sixteen year old boy. it was a dark green colour that tommy typically associated with tubbo. he always wore a shirt in a similar shade, and tommy assumed that was why. there was a huge bed in the middle of the room. like, not touching any walls or anything. the fuck?? who did that??? was this bitch mentally ill or something?? aside from that, there were little lights strung up everywhere and anywhere they could possibly be- strung across the ceiling, wrapped around the bedposts. everywhere. they were in the shapes of little bees.

there was a yellow astronaut helmet that had a little yellow paper crown taped onto it that was barely sitting on the dresser. tommy had no idea how the hell it was sitting there, because it didn't look like it was actually touching the shelf at all, so according to physics it should definitely be on the floor, but whatever. there was also a little green crown, that seemed to be made of paper as well, that was tossed on the shelf. there was a piece of paper that had nothing more than a yellow "7" that was taped to the dresser, which was mildly confusing, but whatever. maybe he just liked the number seven a lot? there was a sticker on the mirror that was attached to the dresser that was some type of flag. tommy couldn't tell where exactly it was from, but it was red, yellow, and black, plus three yellow x's. several different musical posters plus several friendly looking figurines (two of which were goats, two of which were pigs, and one that appeared to be holding a vinyl and a nurf gun) also caught his eye.

a desk with a fancy looking p.c.(it was all lit up and rainbow and shit), spinny chair, a couple comfortable looking chair and a bean bag took up the rest of the room, as well as an array of clothes scattered across the floor room up the rest of the room.

"you can sit there," tubbo pointed towards the been bag chair that was fucking huge and sar in the corner of the room. it was probably big enough to fit both of them. "or the bed. or, ya know," he gestured towards the several different chairs. "whichever," he turned on the television (which was propped up on the wall, fancy) and plopped down on the beanbag chair. tommy followed suit. he was right in assuming it was big enough for the both of them. if they really wanted to, they could probably even fit a third.

"it's on some baking channel. the cakes and shit always look pretty cool. you can change it if you want to," he offered, finding the remote from beneath the scattered clothes on the floor and offering it to tommy. "sorry for the mess, by the way," there were random clothes everywhere, but tommy was pretty sure they weren't dirty because the room smelled of lavender laundry detergent.

"no worries, big T," tommy shrugged. he didn't really care about the array of clothes or the baking shows. he was enjoying himself despite them both.

"alright," tubbo reached between the wall and the bean bag and surprisingly pulled his switch out from the void. "wanna see my animal crossing island?" he asked with a bright smile. tubbo and niki tended to talk about animal crossing a lot.

"yeah, sure. i do," tommy relented. he didn't really care about animal crossing, or understand why tubbo liked it as much as he did, but he was down for it anyways.

"pog," tubbo turned the game on, shifting so that tommy could better see the screen. while they were waiting for the loading screen - which takes for fucking ever, he learned - tommy looked around. there were a few polaroids strung up on the wall. they were mostly of eret, fundy, and niki, but there were a few of tubbo and dream. there looked to be drawing or writing on them, but tommy couldn't really make it out from where they sat. 

"okay, so this is tangy, she's my favourite," tubbo began, drawing tommy's attention back to him. tommy learned a lot about tubbo's villagers(tangy and ozzie were his favourites), the other npc's (tommy and tubbo's favourites were both blathers), and how his village looked. none of this really meant anything to tommy, but tubbo made it seem like it was important, so he listened. he was quite fond of the music anyways, especially the one that played in the clothes shop.

"yeah, that bitch is ugly," tommy nodded, as tubbo introduced him to some ugly bastard hippo villager called Hippeaux. he wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting here and listening to this shit, but at least one episode of the great british bake off had passed. the door downstairs slammed open, then closed, and about ten seconds passed before a voice yelled up the stairs. 

"TOBY? WHAT THE FUCK IS BURNING IN THE OVEN?" tommy recognized the voice as dream's.

"oh shit- the cookies," tubbo jumped up, tossing his switch on to the bed and bustling out of the room.

"oh fuck," tommy quickly stoof and followed after tubbo. the two thumped down the stairs and to the kitchen.

dream was standing with a tray of burning cookies in one hand, while the other was frantically trying to wave some of the smoke out of the oven. he looked up at the duo with an annoyed glare. tommy noticed one crucial factor was missing. he wasn't wearing his mask. he figured this was fair enough, considering it was his own house and all, but it felt wrong to be seeing his face. even in the polaroids on tubbo's wall he'd been wearing the mask.

"what were you idiots doing?" dream asked as he set the baking sheet onto the oven and took the oven mitt off. "why the hell were there burning-" he looked at the tray to try and guess what the hell the charcoal was meant to be.

"cookies," tubbo supplied. 

"cookies?" dream asked, almost skeptically. tubbo nodded. "okay, burning cookies in the oven?" tommy looked at tubbo, then back to dream. he had a scar that went from the left side of his chin, up across his nose, and to his right cheek. the mask made sense, and tommy almost felt bad for thinking he was a douchebag.

"hey, nimrods. answer please," dream crossed his arms in annoyance.

"well, we were gonna lie to you and our friends and say we made them from scratch, but then we completely got distracted by animal crossing, tubbo explained.

dream face palmed. "you two are fucking stupid," yeah, almost was definitely a key word.

~~~

in october, tommy participated in his first family movie night. the night before halloween, he, wilbur, techno, and phil sat down and watched four different halloween movies. not like- actually different halloween movies, they were just the one movie, halloween, but remade. each of them was considerably worse than the one before it. plus there was an ungodly amount of sex scenes that no one should have to sit through with their 'dad' and 'brothers'. seriously, what the fuck is up with horror movies and sex scenes?? who decided that was a reoccuring thing in like, all of them?

he and wilbur became much more tame with each other, for the most part. they didn't really talk, and tommy usually ignored him or gave him the cold shoulder, but he didn't feel like smacking him or crying (or both) every time he saw him, so it was much less tense overall.

they got into much more of a groove as a 'family'. tommy did dishes every tuesday and friday, and he helped phil with grocery shopping every saturday. he also helped where he could with dinner. for obvious reasons, he never helped with the actual cooking, more just with chopping stuff up and then watching. it was chill. he was happy at 'home'.

on halloween, tommy hung out with the boys. they'd considered going trick or treating, then collectively decided to skip it and hang out at niki's instead. her parents were at a friends halloween party, leaving the entire house to them and only them. they turned all the lights off so that no irritating ass kids would come knocking at the door, then hung out in the basement for the whole night.

"eret, that dress KILLS on you," niki praised for the umpteenth time.

"thanks, nik," he gave a twirl, just to show it off. he'd decided to go as a princess for halloween, since they'd all wanted to dress up, just without all of that walking around in the cold bullshit. he sat on the couch, resting his legs on the arm of it to show off the thigh high black heels that matched the dress and contrasted perfectly with the silver tiara. they made him really fucking tall, and it was intimidating to tommy how well he could walk in them.

"you look great too," tubbo chimed in. niki had gone as an angel for halloween, wearing a cropped white top and a matching white skirt, as well as homemade angel wings (that rommy thought looked fucking poggers) and a headband that held a halo over her head.

tubbo was dressed as a bee. it was a bit half assed, just a yellow and black stripped long sleeved shirt, with overalls that had a little bee patch on it. he also had a cheap set of antenna and wings that probably came together from like, walmart.

"yeah. everyone's better than tommy, at least," chimed in fundy, who was dressed as a fox. (he claimed multiple times that he wasn't a fucking furry, he just really liked foxes) tommy groaned.

"you assholes didn't help at all. a sheet ghost is a classic, you guys just suck," he bitched, unwrapping a snickers bar with a pout.

"i suggested a cow," tubbo responded, sitting normally on the couch beside eret, who scooted so that he could rest his head on tubbo's lap. his legs were still dangling over the arm of the couch.

"yeah, and it was a bad suggestion," tommy shot back, causing niki to giggle.

"oh, come on, tommy, i think you would've been a cute cow," she said 

"yeah, agreed," fundy teased. eret gasped.

"oh my god- you and fundy-" 

"not liking where this is going," fundy interrupted.

"you could've been furry buddies!" he finished, causing himself, tubbo, and niki to die laughing, and both tommy and fundy to laugh.

"god i hate you guys," fundy frowned, grabbing a twix. "why did i even come here?"

"aweee, fundy, you love ussss," tubbo patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. there wasn't much room there, but enough for the ginger. probably. "besides, niki and eret promised spa night," he added.

"oh, right. i completely forgot about that," tommy sat on the arm of the already full couch despite there being unoccupied actually comfortable places to sit. 

"yes! you guys wait here. i'll go grab my stuff!" niki dashed up the stairs. "eret, c'mere. i need more hands," the girl yelled from somewhere on the upper floor.

"yes ma'am," eret jumped up (the amount of ease he did it in those five inch heels was terrifying to tommy) and followed behind niki. tommy stole the now empty space.

"have you guys done this before?" tommy asked, looking at tubbo and fundy. he kicked his shoes off and pulled his legs up to sit criss cross. 

"yup. we try to do it once a month. skipped last month since eret was out of town near the end of it but we've been doing it pretty much once a month for a couple years now," fundy responded. oh, wow, tommy was definitely late to the friend group.

"yeah, it's pretty fun," tubbo nodded. "they do our nails, this cool rose face scrub thing. the whole nine yards," he smiled. tommy chuckled. what a weird fucking friend group. he understood meeting up and hanging out once a month as a definite thing, but spa night in a group that consisted of almost entirely guys seemed new to tommy.

"we're baaaaaack," niki said cheerfully, bringing an end to their short lived conversation. she hurried down the stairs with some ugly fuschia container that had nail polish and marker all over it. eret wasn't far behind, and he appeared to be managing to hold five empty glasses.

"okay, eret. iced tea in the fridge, you know," niki sat herself on the floor in front of the other three, pushing the coffee table out of the way so she could actually fit. "since we have one extra person, one of you has to wait with the nails. any volunteers?" she asked.

"i'll wait," tubbo offered first. niki nodded.

"alright! i'll do tommy, and when eret is done he can do fundy, she said. eret gave a "kay" of approval from where he stood pouring drinks. "what colour, tommy?" niki asked, opening the fuschia box to reveal a SHIT ton of colours. 

"i don't get to choose not to have my nails done?" tommy asked. niki shook her head. 

"nope. you come to spa night, you get your nails done. it's the rules," she responded.

"yeah, that's fair enough. let's do red then."

"which red? i have a few."

"uhm…" tommy looked at the box. "just.. red?"

"insightful," fundy snorted.

"shut up, floris," niki teased, choosing a darkish red colour since tommy definitely wasn't going to help.

tommy offered his hand out to niki so she could do her thing. the girl took one look at them before grabbing a nail file. "jesus, tommy, do you take care of your nails at all?"

"i wash underneath them," tommy answered truthfully. tubbo giggled, and both niki and eret- who was now handling five full glasses and on his way to the couch- groaned.

"aye, better than toby can say, he's got dirt under them like ninety nine percent of the time," fundy remarked.

"oh, fuck off! i have a little garden! it gets messy," tubbo defended, accepting one if the glasses from eret to lighten the load.

"oh, fuck off," fundy mocked, also accepting a glass from eret. "thanks, eret,"

"yeah, thanks eret. fuck you fundy," tubbo responded with a scowl.

"ladies, ladies, relax," niki intervened. "fundy, let eret do your nails. toby, pick something to watch," although she was sweet, she could be exceptionally stern when she wanted to be. both boys obeyed (though tubbo stuck his tongue out at fundy, who, in return, flipped him off)

"okay, let's see what's on. netflix?" toby asked receiving a series of "yeah" 's and nods. after a few moments of pointless scrolling, laughing at terrible looking movies and shows, and bickering about what to watch, they settled on something called cupcake wars, because who doesn't love to watch other people fail at what they love doing on national television?

all in all, this was the best halloween of tommy's life. he thought this shit peaked when he was still going trick or treating regularly as a kid, but as he sleepily glanced at his friends who'd passed out (at this point it was verging on five a.m. and they had just finished the spa night of their lives) he smiled. they were cool.

~~~

november got cold. well, it has already been cold, but now it was extra cold. like, with snow and shit. rather than walking, most days tubbo and tommy got a ride from either phil or dream. wilbur when the snow was heavier and they had no other choice (plus techno was always there). tommy learned that tubbo could drive, but he usually refused to do so in the snow. they would catch a ride from eret, but he got up early every day for some bullshit club, and they both refused to leave for school at six thirty a.m. 

tommy's family got a new cat, and for some god forsaken reason, phil allowed techno and wilbur to dub her 'dumbass'. the cat was really sweet, and absolutely gorgeous. she was completely black, the exact opposite of duchess, but also an absolute idiot. she'd hop up onto a counter and not only knock all sorts of shit off, but come toppling down only a few seconds later. tommy didn't even know cats could be that clumsy.

he absolutely loved her. like duchess, she seemed to favour tommy over the others, hut she usually hung around techno. techno was usually holding her and stroking the cat like some sort of movie villain or something, and with that stupid fucking blanket over his shoulders, he looked like a villain too. whatever, tommy respected it. 

in the colder month, tommy was forced again to go shopping with phil to get warmer clothes. they were pretty much identical to the clothes he'd picked out before, but with longer sleeves.

"you're joking," eret said as tommy arrived to 'the park'. it was a place that was decently close to all five of their houses- like in the middle- where they could easily listen. "tommy, that's just exactly what you wear but-" he paused. "warmer," he pointed out. tommy looked down at his clothes.

"i mean? yeah. i guess it is," he agreed, though he wasn't sure where exactly this conversation was going. 

"you're like an animated character, you have like one outfit," tubbo pointed out from where he hung upside down on the monkey bars. 

"tubbo isn't that shit cold?" fundy asked, pointing at the metal monkey bars.

"oh, yeah, i can't feel the back parts of my knees," tubbo confirmed.

"lovely," tommy said sarcastically, then returned his attention to the previous conversation. "it's just what i wear, it's not my fault that you guys are surprisingly fashionable for teenage boys. and niki, of course,"

"it is your fault for wearing the same thing though," niki responded. 

"guys, i have to admit, this feels like an unnecessary and planned attack," tommy wasn't sure why the hell they decided now was the time to rag on him for his clothing choice, especially considering they'd been friends for like two or three months now.

"it was," fundy replied. "they wanna take you shopping," 

"we," niki corrected.

"yeah, we," fundy corrected himself. "they did the same thing with me. i used to wear this one hoodie all the time, then they forced me to go shopping at the thrift store, and now i like the pinterest boys," fundy said with a grin. 

"he makes it sound like a bad thing, it's fun!" eret assured. "to my car?" he offered.

"wait, let me check with phil," tommy pulled his phone out with his messages to phil.

'can i go shopping w/ fun, tubs, nik, & eret?" 

"yeah i should ask dream," tubbo added, pulling his phone out to text his brother. tommy's phone dinged with a message pretty quickly. 

'Yes. Home by eight for dinner, or you can go to someone's house after. Just tell me. Chinese food tonight, so'

'right. k. thanks.' 

"yup, i can go," tommy confirmed, stepping to the sidewalk.

"OOF-" tubbo grunted, causing his friends to look at him and see that rather than hanging upside down, he was now spread on the ground. tommy snorted, and niki smacked his arm and hurried towards tubbo, offering a hand to help him up. 

"you okay, toby?" she asked as she pulled him up.

"am fine," he reassured, brushing wood chips off from his skin and clothing.

"you sure?" fundy asked, receiving a nod and an 'mhm' in return. "good. dumbass,"

"you're a dick,"tubbo grumbled, but smiled to show he didn't really mean it.

"cry me a river," fundy responded with an eye roll, wrapping his arm around tubbo's shoulder. "you guys ready?" he asked, starting towards the car, leading both niki and tubbo to follow.

"yup. let's roll," tommy said.

"last to the car is a little bitch," eret declared, being the first to sprint towards the direction of his car. tommy, being the competitive little shit that he was, followed suit, calling 'shotgun' the moment he saw it. fundy, tubbo, and niki didn't seem to care as much, continuing at the pace they were going and laughing when tommy almost busted his ass in the snow. at the last second, as if in an unspoken pact, niki and tubbo ran the last few feet to the car.

"hahaa, fundy's a little bitch," niki teased.

"you two are the absolute worst," fundy complained, being the first into the back seat of the car. the unspoken rule of eret's car, the last to the vehicle (the little bitch, ya know) had to sit in the worst spot. the back middle seat. 

"sucks to suck," tubbo shrugged, climbing in on one side while niki went around to climb in on the other. tommy, who was already in the front seat, grabbed the aux cord.

"oh god damnit, why did you lot let tommy have shot gun?" eret groaned as the all too familiar hamilton sound track started playing.

despite his bitching, eret actually didn't mind the music, this was evident when he- and everyone else in the car shouted the lyrics to every song that played. despite all of them playing an instrument, and ya know, being able to hear, not one of them were actually in tune or even fucking close. it was painful to ears, but amusing nonetheless.

once they actually got to the thrift store, and eret turned off the car, there was a quick second of silence.

"jesus christ, i didn't even realize how loud that shit was. my ears are ringing," fundy spoke, rubbing his ears while everyone opened up their doors. a few collective giggles rang out.

"same, dude," tommy agreed. loud music car rides were definitely the best type of car rides.

"yeah, i'm definitely calling shot gun for the car ride back," niki declared as they started towards the entrance of the shop. 

"no, no, no, niki, i really don't think that you understand how shot gun works," tommy responded, then proceeded go explain just how the game worked, but it really just appeared to be an in depth explanation as to how he was certainly going to be getting shotgun once again on the way home. by the time he finally shut up, they were in the shop with a cart. 

"get this- a collared shirt makes any outfit like seven times better. especially like crewnecks and vests," niki explained, heading towards the boys section. 

"wait, i didn't realize we were actually going go be shopping for me," tommy groaned. "i hate clothes shopping!" he complained.

"i hate seeing how you wear the same outfit every day," eret retorted.

"honestly, fundy and i just thought it would he funny to come," tubbo chimed in.

"shut up, tubbo," tommy said to his best friend.

"yup, alright," tubbo agreed, looking at a skirt that they walked past. 

now, i don't know if you've seen any female centric movie from the early 2000s, but if you have, you probably could picture that one scene from all of them where the protagonist and their friends do thay stupid make over scene. now, picture that exact scene but instead of it, but rather than all of the bullshit giggling over obnoxious dresses, it tommy trying on outfits, niki and three teenage boys watching and being idiots the whole time. a lovely sight, really. 

now, niki was having none of the bullshit that tommy tried with phil. none of that shrug and short response bullshit. she pried every opinion that he had out of the boy. surprisingly, she could be exceptionally intimidating when she wanted to be. this was one of those times. they stayed away from the coats, because niki pointed out that it was getting cold, and it'd be better that someone in need got it than them, considering they could afford a new one if they wanted it. niki was sweet like that.

after a few hours of shopping and once tommy was left with decent clothes, (he was no instagram model, but he was at least a step up from the typical teenage boy. he was an almost pinterest boy, which was good enough for niki) and everyone else got something they were pleased with; tubbo got a cardigan with little bees and flowers embroidered on to it, as well as a skirt that the same shade of blue, niki a purple dress that suited her cottagecore aesthetic perfectly, eret managed to find some cool ass stompy shoes, if you know, you know, and fundy a jacket with some coloured stripes on the top chest bit; they were ready to check out. after the woman giving them nasty glares as they paid, they were headed to the car.

this time, tubbo got shotgun. his superior sense of music was put on. it was much softer, and a bit more awkward to sing along to considering it had a bit of a slower pace, but the group yelled loudly and out of tune nonetheless, and were deafened by the music and the sound of one another. tommy didn't know most of the words to most of the songs (though he did know and yell every word to checkmate by conan gray, so) 

he tried to follow along to the few words he knew, but he mainly focused on his friends. they were really funny when they sang. fundy (who was stuck in the middle again) and niki were singing at each other, like it was a one on one concert. they laughed every few minutes at the dumbass-ness. tubbo would yell everything into his first as if it was a microphone. he'd also check back on tommy to make sure he was good and all. tommy would always grin and give a thumbs up every time. eret was more focused on the road, but he actively hummed and tapped the steering wheel.

they were the best. tommy smiled to himself. he waved to niki and fundy as they both got out at niki's house (they had a project due in a few days that they needed to do) then again when he was dropped off at his own house.

"see you guys tomorrow!" tommy waved.

"yeah, see ya!" tubbo waved aggressively and eret did the same.

"bye tommy!" the older added on before tommy slammed the door closed and hurried up to his house. november ended with tommy adoring his friends and having a much better fashion sense.

~~~

december was snowy. pretty early on in the month, phil had insisted on putting up a christmas tree, and so a whole day had become of it. the family pulled on some pyjamas (phil said this was a requirement) and unboxed their christmas tree. the real deal was much too messy, and always smelled weird, so they'd had the same plastic one for like years.

it was quiet, and mildly hectic, but tommy had fun. for the most part, he just watched phil, wilbur, and techno struggle setting it up, he pitched in a bit with the decorating, and phil had given him the honour of putting the star on top. it was relaxing. tommy's usual discomfort that came with the month of december was much less noticeable.

a week later- december the eighteenth- tommy was once again with his friends. it was the second to last day of school before winter break, and since the next day they had exams, and afterwards, the majority of them would be leaving for vacation (besides tommy, only tubbo would be staying, because he and dreams parents weren't actually home to be taking them anywhere) this was the last chance they'd have to hang out before the new year.

he'd asked phil to hang out with them after school, before school, and phil had agreed, just telling him to be sure to be back before midnight. it was a school night, but he also wouldn't be able to see his friends until after the new year, so phil tried to be understanding and all.

after school, they settled in niki's car. tubbo sat in front (he was the only one that niki allowed to sit up front since he tended to be the neatest) and tommy was in the back, squished between fundy and eret.

first, they stopped at some random coffee shop. they settled in a corner with their orders, trying to keep quiet enough.

"i just don't understand how you lot can drink fucking iced coffee. it's literally fucking snowing outside!" tommy made a face. "it's fucking freezing in here!" while he and fundy both had gotten hot drinks, (tommy a black coffee, which tasted like shit, but suited his aesthetic, and fundy a hot chocolate) eret, niki, and tubbo had gotten cold ones. tubbo had gotten some frappe thing, and niki and eret both had an iced coffee. 

"you're wearing a fucking vest and a thin ass long sleeve, of course you're cold," eret noted.

it was true. tommy was wearing a red and white argyle style sweater vest over a long sleeved collared shirt, along with some brown pants. it was an outfit that niki had picked out for him a month prior. it was the first time that he'd gotten to wear it to school. they were usually required school uniforms, but it relented enough towards the holiday seasons to allow them to wear what they wanted.

"yeah, yeah, it's still fucking snowing though," he pointed out the window where, sure enough, a mild amount of snow was falling.

"it's just better than hot coffee," niki explained. "besides, you're a pussy i'm wearing a skirt and a cardigan," she said playfully, sipping her drink.

"i drink cold coffee, because every time i drink hot coffee i just burn my tongue," tubbo explained, causing tommy to snort.

"yeah, alright, that i believe," he responded. he loved tubbo, but he was a complete and total dumbass. tubbo stuck his tongue out in response, and took a sip of his coffee. hey, he didn't burn his tongue so.

"whatever, you're a dumbass," eret responded with a shrug.

"you guys are mean," tommy said with a fake sad tone.

"boohoo," tubbo responded. tommy rolled his eyes in response.

after about an hour of conversation, waiting for them to finish their drinks, then a bit of just bullshitting, they finished up and returned to the car.

"now what?" tommy asked. he wasn't ready to say goodbye to his friends. luckily, he didn't have to just yet.

"to the parking garage!" niki declared, starting her car up.

"the parking garage?" tommy asked uncertainly. he had no idea what parking garage she was on about or why the hell she'd want to go to a parking garage anyways.

"the parking garage," tubbo and fundy confirmed simultaneously whilst eret nodded in agreement. ah, well that just answered all of tommy's questions. tommy doubted he'd get much more of an explanation out of them, so he decided he'd just wait and see. 

typically car rides with his friends were loud and obnoxious. singing and yelling the whole time. this one was much more relaxed. there was quiet christmas music playing, and niki, tubbo, and fundy were humming along, but it was otherwise quiet. like tommy, they were all lost in thought.

the latter half of the year had been great for tommy. he had never been great at socializing- when he was seen as too loud and annoying, he'd try switching it up, and then he'd just be seen as weird and quiet. it never worked out well. he was glad he'd managed to make such good friends, and even though it'd be like two weeks top, he'd miss them when they went on their vacations. he hoped he'd manage to stick around at least until they got back.

he was also thinking about the gifts he'd gotten his friends. he was always a bit awkward with that sort of thing, but he'd been determined to get something for them. something they'd like too. of course, he'd try and play it off like he was busy, but they'd most likely be able to see right through his bullshit. they were good at that shit.

"we're heeereee," niki said in a sing-songy voice as she turned her car off. tommy wasn't exactly sure what he'd been expecting in going to a place called 'the parking garage' but sure enough, they were in what seemed to be.. well.. parking garage. 

"this is where you guys wanted to go? the bottom of a parking garage?" tommy inquired. "it's fucking freezing," he pointed out as he climbed out of the car and swung his bag around his shoulders.

"we're not staying at the bottom, moron," fundy rolled his eyes as he crawled out of the middle seat. "we're going to the top," he said as he closed the door, then he- as well as the other three- started heading towards the corner of the garage where there appeared to be an elevator. tommy followed skeptically. 

"oh, right, of course," a tinge of sarcasm filled tommy's voice. "we're going to the top of a parking garage. when it's snowing. of course. how could i have been so foolish?"

niki hit the button on her keys to lock her car, resulting in the beeping noise to echo throughout the bottom floor. "tommy, trust us. would we ever mislead you?" she asked.

"toby tied my shoe laces together and laughed when i ate shit literally yesterday," tommy shot back. the other four snickered. "shut up. the point is, yes, you definitely would," tommy answered. 

"to be fair, that's literally the oldest trick in the book," toby countered with a giggle as the five of them climbed into the elevator. 

"shut up, tubbo," tommy made face at his friend, who grinned in response. 

"seriously, tommy, trust us. it's not as stupid as it seems," eret reassured as he pressed the 'top floor' button.

"fine. if you bastards take me up there and kill me or something, i'm not giving you your christmas presents. plus, i'm coming back and haunting your asses," he threatened. 

"you're so dramatic," fundy remarked.

"i hate you guys," tommy grumbled, crossing his arms 

"you love uss," tubbo responded.

"i tolerate you," tommy corrected. 

"yeah yeah, whatever you say," tubbo smiled. pretty shortly after, the elevator dinged and the doors popped open. they stood in front of a wide empty space.

"c'mon!" tubbo pulled tommy out from the elevator. the top floor of the garage was completely empty. a few inches of untouched snow was covering the ground, and more seemed to still be coming. it looked lovely. it wasn't exactly a huge spot, probably enough room to fit like ten cars, but a nice opening nonetheless. tubbo appeared to be pulling him towards the half-wall that surrounded the top floor of the building, and once they got there, tommy's mouth dropped. random lights from all around the city were visible, and though he couldn't exactly make anything out, he could guess what certain larger light sources were. 

"see?" niki had a smug tone to her voice as she brushed the snow off of the short wall- it stopped just above her waist. it was actually a pretty thick wall. it was basically begging for teenagers to go up there and sit on it (though it was probably really to prevent cars from rolling off the fucking building if they hit the thing) niki listened to the walls plea, and hopped up carefully to sit down.

"cool, right?" eret asked, doing the same as niki, brushing the snow off from the wall and then sitting carefully.

"holy shit, it's fucking cool," tommy agreed somewhat spitefully, brushing away snow and putting his bag in the cleared off spot. he knew that shit was cold, and he didn't care what the hell niki, eret, and now fundy were all doing, he wasn't sitting on that.

"yup," tubbo nodded. "now we're gonna shove ya off the edge and take the christmas presents," he joked, causing tubbo to give him a playful punch on the shoulder.

"oh shut up, tubbo," niki laughed, opening up her school bag. "we have to hurry up with this present thing- my legs are freezing," she pulled out four gifts. pretty much everyone follows suit in this, retrieving the presents from wherever they'd been stored- mostly backpacks, but eret grabbed his from some plastic bag, and fundy pulled one from his pocket and the other three from his school bag, so. after a quick exchange, and everyone was properly settled with their own gifts, they collectively began unwrapping and opening.

tommy opened tubbo's first. a little rainbow bracelet was the first thing in the bag, and right underneath it was a little cow. tommy smiled. he would be called henry.

in niki's, there was a red sweater and a card that expressed how glad she was that they were friends and how she hoped he liked. her homemade gift. tommy thought that shit was fucking crazy because it was gorgeoud and looked professional as HELL.

fundy had gifted him a keychain with a triforce on it, and a white sweatshirt with a screencap from a zelda game (breath of the wild). tommy fucking loved it. 

eret gave him a few different shades of nail polish (tommy had taken a liking to the nail painting on their monthly spa nights) and two scented candles. they were banana bread and some scent called frosted apple. they both smelled h e a v e n l y .

he looked up once he was done, seeing that niki was also already done. 

"niki, that sweater is lovely- how long were you working on it?" he asked.

"speedran it these last two months. been working on everyone else's for most of this year, but you joined our friend group so i had to rush. sorry if there's mess ups," she apologized.

"no- dude- it's fucking cool as hell. definitely wearing it tomorrow to school," he reassured.

"i'm definitely wearing this necklace!" niki smiled, clipping the silver chain around her neck and allowing the small silver flower charm to drop on to her chest. "thanks, tommy," she smiled brightly.

"yeah, no problem," he smiled back.

"what do you think about the bracelets?" tubbo asked, holding his wrist out to show that he himself wore one as well. "they're friendship bracelets! i made them for everyone!"

"they're really nice, toby," chimed in. "i like them,"

"yeah, same,"

"me too," niki and tommy said at the same time. "jinx,"

the group began chatting. at first it was about what they'd gotten and how they absolutely adored it, but after a bit it shifted to just talking. about exams, their vacations, what they'd do as soon as everyone got back. it was fun. tommy almost forgot it was so fucking cold. it was only when the light snow got heavier that niki remembered she actually had to drive everyone home in this shit and she would rather not crash and everything.

"alright, ladies, we better go now. if i crash because i can't see anything, my parents won't buy me a new car," she said jokingly. she didn't actually give a shit about the car, but she would prefer that everyone got home safely. 

"fucking finally, i'm cold as hell," tommy said as the group hurried towards the elevator.

"you were smiling," tubbo countered. "you were having fun,"

"tubbo, you are the bane of my existence," tommy responded almost instantly, being the last one in the elevator, then the one to press the 'ground floor' button. 

"yeah, yeah, okay," tubbo rolled his eyes, then allowed a comfortable silence to fall between them. once the doors opened, they hurried to niki's car and climbed in, niki starting it almost instantly. the familiar christmas music started up once again.

the only noise besides the christmas music was breathing, as well as the occasional sniffling from the cold. 

tommy looked at his friends. they all had rosy cheeks and bright smiles, and though he couldn't really see himself, he was sure he looked the same. tommy wasn't really a person to focus on vibes, but the one's in the far were just immaculate. the car was now warm, and everyone was happy. tommy looked out the window at the falling snow, his mind full of christmas music and his best friends.


	11. shattering glass

the ride home was quiet. everyone was decently worn out from a full day of exams, and the prospect of having exams the next day. tommy, despite usually having a loud ass mouth and need for constant noise, didn't really mind it. he was tired, despite it really only being almost 10 p.m. 

everyone waved goodbye to eret, the first one to be dropped off. tubbo was second, and after a moment of bickering, niki allowed fundy to take his spot in the front seat. tommy was out last. well, technically second to last since fundy lived much closer to niki's house, but last in the sense of people who lived on this street.

"i'll see you guys tomorrow," he said as he climbed out of the car. he waved to his friends who yelled 'byeeeeeeee' as he closed the car door.

he hurried up to his door, closing it quietly behind him. he realized his efforts to be as quiet as possible were basically pointless, considering no one was actually asleep. wilbur, techno, and phil were all just seated on the couch with a box of pizza on the coffee table. 

"hey everyone," tommy greeted, dropping his bag on the floor beside the door. he usually left it there on school days for no real reason, other than it was slightly easier in the morning, he supposed.

"welcome home!" phil greeted cheerfully. "we're watching home alone. wanna join?" he offered. tommy hesitated for a moment before nodding and taking a seat between phil and the arm of the couch.

"we're only at the beginning," techno informed. "this is the only good christmas movie," 

"it's not even that good," wil chimed in. "it's decent at best," 

techno apparently had very strong opinions on whether or not home alone was a good movie, because he chucked the pillow he was holding across the room at his brother. "don't disrespect home alone like that, it's a classic,"

"aye, watch it," phil warned. "either of you hit that tree, you're sleeping in the dog house," he threatened. neither of them decided to point out that they didn't even have a dog house, considering they had two cats and zero dogs. instead, they settled down and turned their attention back to the movie. 

tommy smiled slightly at the ordeal. phil was very funny in the threats he made. they were never actual threats, (just randomly obscure things that probably popped into his head at the moment. the nonexistent dog house, for instance.) to show he wasn't fucking around. tommy's personal favourite as of right then was the time phil threatened to duct tape both wilbur and techno to the wall. it was funny to picture.

he grabbed a piece of pizza, kicking his shoes off, and shifting to get more comfortable on the couch. he wasn't really one to care about christmas movies, but home alone could always be an exception, he guessed. he liked the part when the kid hit himself in the face for whatever reason, and the yell that ensued. stupid fucking children.

an hour and a half or so later once the end credits were rolling, a few collective groans came out as wilbur and techno both made moves to stand up.

"alright, you three have exams tomorrow, you should be getting to bed soon," phil pointed out, as if he didn't know that two of the kids barely slept, and the other one 'snuck' (a term used loosely here, since everyone knew when he left AND when he came back) and only properly passed out when he was high. when wilbur and techno groaned, tommy himself joined in as if he didn't actually just wanna go to his room. "my god, you three are so dramatic," phil complained. "what if we had hot chocolate and then you three went up to bed?" he proposed.

wilbur was the first to agree. "yeah, that sounds amazing," he stood up, stretching as he did.

"yeah, alright," techno shrugged.

tommy took a moment before nodding as well. "okay, sounds good to me," 

phil smiled. "lovely," he stood and headed towards the kitchen, children in tow.

tommy hopped onto the counter as phil began boiling water (yes water yo. stupid crybaby little fucks why dont you fucking cry about it milk is shit fuck you). the man considered saying something, but decided against it. he'd told tommy about seventy times not to sit on the counter, but he always returned to it anyways. at this point, phil didn't care, just as long as he wasn't fucking anything up.

"so, tommy, what did you get up to?" phil asked, grabbing four cups from the cabinet. tommy shrugged.

"nothing interesting. we got coffee, then went to niki's," he didn't think that he'd get in trouble or anything for hanging out at the parking garage, but he liked the idea of it being a little secret between him and his friends. 

"sounds fun. did you give 'em your presents?" phil asked, adoring the way that his son's face lit up when the topic of his friends was brought up. 

"yeah!! they gave me theirs too! niki literally hand made me a sweater!" tommy said with a bright smile. 

"no way," phil spoke with just as an excited tone.

"yeah way," tommy responded. 

"well, let's see it then," phil prompted, glancing once at the kettle, then back at tommy. 

"alright!" tommy hopped down from the counter and hurrying over to where his bag was on the floor- that was where he stuffed his christmas present.

"what about you two?" phil asked wil and techno as tommy retrieved the sweater. "did you two get anything? from your friends?"

"schlatt got me a new guitar pic," wilbur pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a guitar pic from it. it looked to be customized, because it had a little gold coin on it with an S. phil hadn't the slightest clue what it meant, but wil grinned like a dumbass once he pulled it out, so it must've been some sort of inside joke. surely his guitar pic count must have been up to like forty at this point, because when in doubt, get a guitar pic, and phil had no idea what wil did with all of them.

"dream just got me a framed photo of that stupid track race when he got past the finish line before me by point two seconds," techno said with a blank voice and an eyeroll.

"oh my god, that's terrible," phil wheezed at techno, shaking his head. dream was a little bastard child. he'd met him before, and he was one of the funniest kids he'd ever met, with a totally stupid sense of humor. 

"yeah, but in return i gave him my report card from last semester where all my grades were better," techno said with a smug smile.

"atta boy, techno," phil praised, reaching out for a high five. techno wasn't really one for high fives- even his dad couldn't really pry a decent one out of him. instead, techno tapped his father's hand gently, rolling his eyes once again.

"yeah, deserved. dream's a bitch," tommy added.

"agreed," wil chimed.

"anyways," tommy unfolded his sweater with a bright smile. "it's so neat! she made it all by hand in the last two months!" 

"wow tommy, that is neat," phil hummed in agreement, lifting the kettle from the stove once it started whistling, and pouring it into the mugs. he gave everyone a cup and allowing them to put their own packets of cocoa in. 

"yeah, i know right," tommy absolutely beamed with pride in his friend. "i'm glad my friends aren't total asshats," he gave a pointed look towards wilbur in saying this. oh, dear.

"what?" wilbur raised an eyebrow. his friends were.. well.. they were VERY much just people who wanted to hurry out of school and be adults. plus, they totally knew how to have fun. as much as he tried seeming to be the best kid ever, he just had a hard time doing it. sometimes, it was nice to just smoke and forget about how stressed he was. 

tommy shrugged with a bitch ass, smug fucking smile. "oh, nothing, nothing," tommy responded. for some reason, this felt oddly familiar.

"my friends are perfectly fine, tommy," wilbur frowned. he'd been doing his best to try and be nice to tommy, but that little fucking gremlin child was just so insistent on being a little shit.

"i mean… sure-" tommy was quickly cut off.

"boys, let's not start an argument right now. it's late," phil interrupted. techno took a sip of his much too hot hot chocolate, not even flinching when it burned his tongue.

"i wasn't starting an argument," tommy insisted. "i was just pointing out that my friend group is great, and when we hang out i don't do irresponsible things and come home at three in the morning and wake everyone up," he shrugged, kicking his feet gently and blowing on his drink.

"tommy, wilbur's friends aren't all that bad," phil intervened. he'd met a few of them. (okay, really only schlatt and connor) but they both seemed nice enough. schlatt was really funny and a bit like- oddly mature for his age- almost scarily so. connor was pretty nice, though that was pretty much all that he knew about him.

"never said they were bad," tommy countered, and as much as phil hated to admit it, the little shit was right.

"listen, gremlin, i said i don't want any fights tonight-"

"listen here, you little shit," wilbur interrupted his father, receiving a death glare from the man in return. "talk shit on me all you want, but don't talk shit about my friends," wilbur spoke coldly. he had a fair few inches on tommy, and although he usually looked pretty sweet, when he was glaring the way that he was currently, he was fucking terrifying. 

"i wasn't talking any shit!" tommy insisted. "i'm just saying,"

"yeah? well, you know what i'm 'just saying'?" wilbur asked, raising his voice ever so slightly, using his fingers as air quotes on the words he repeated from tommy. tommy leaned back.

"wilbur, stop," phil spoke up.

"i'm 'just saying' that you're a little fuckhead," wilbur said angrily. "look, i tried making it up to you. i know i was a dickhead, and i'm sorry, but it's been four months- FOUR! i think you're being a fucking dick,"

tommy scoffed, straightening his posture in a lame attempt to seem more confident than he was. he was much more terrified than he was letting on, but fuck wilbur.

"god forgive me for not wanting to talk to your bitch ass," tommy gripped his mug tightly.

"boys- go to your rooms," phil ordered, putting his mug down and stepping in between the two bickering boys. unfortunately, he stood at about 5"9 and they were both taller than him, so there was really no point, but at least they wouldn't be able to grab at each other without moving around him.

"tell tommy to stop being a bitch then," wilbur demanded.

"wilbur's the one being a fuckface," tommy shot back.

"wilbur soot, you do NOT talk to your brother that way," phil regretted what he said the moment that he said it, because the moment that he said it, he had a sick feeling in his stomach as to what would come of it.

wilbur gave an almost ominous laugh. "brother?" he looked at tommy. "when i said i wouldn't call you my brother- that you wouldn't be a part of this family- you have to understand. that wasn't a challenge. it's the truth. you aren't a part of this family."

as if to punctuate his sentence, a shattering sound rang throughout the kitchen. four pairs of eyes shot towards the ground, only to see a totally fucked up cup.

"sorry," tommy piped up timidly. phil looked from the cup up at the blonde, whose now empty hands were shaking as if he were freezing, and eyes were wide "i- uhm- i," tommy paused. the hell was he doing? how exactly was he planning on explaining himself here?

"hey- hey, it's okay, tommy," phil reassured, smiling brightly. well, as brightly as he could whilst ignoring the urges to absolutely murder wilbur (yes, again) and pull tommy into a tight hug (he knew the kid wasn't emotionally prepared enough for that shit). he gently patted tommy's shoulder, and tommy flinched away. 

"why don't you just head up to bed, okay? i'll clean it up," phil offered, receiving a shaky nod in response. tommy scooted slightly on the counter, hopping off on a spot where the ground wasn't covered in hot chocolate and shattered ceramic. "night," tommy muttered, brushing his shoulder against wilbur's as he headed up the stairs. it wasn't intentional, wilbur, was just in the way, but he felt a glare coming from the brunette from the way his neck hairs prickled.

rather than going to his room, he headed towards the bathroom and locked the door. he sat down, pressing his back against the door and taking a few deep breaths. his heart pounded in his chest, and blood pounded in his ears. his fingers tingled. he couldn't see. well, no, he could see, but none of what he was looking at made any sense. it was like he was trying to make the world out through a kaleidoscope. he may as well have been blind. hell, he may have preferred to have been blind because that shit was headache inducing.

his breathing was even worse than his eyesight. no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't catch his breath. it was like he just ran a marathon. no, three marathons, and the ever rising feeling of puke in his throat wasn't fucking helping.

tommy inched towards the toilet, wrapping his arms tightly around it once he was close enough. he was glad they had a cleaning lady- (since he'd first moved in, the question of whether the house was clean because they were responsible or because they had a cleaning lady was answered at some point- he didn't remember when-) because this would be pretty gross otherwise. he squeezed his eyes closed. the kaleidoscope-like lense that his eyes were looking through, mixed with the room that was spinning at seventy miles per hour was growing to be too much for him. this was fucking shitty. it had been a long while since he'd last felt as bad as he did.

he hated wilbur. fuck wilbur. stupid, asshole, son of a bitch. he gagged, and promptly emptied part of the contents from his stomach into the toilet. fuck. he hated everything. he hated himself. he hated the stupid fucking toilet. he reached to the trip handle to flush it before going at it again. this process repeated a few times. he flushed the toilet, vomited, thought about how much he hated everything, and repeat. once he had nothing else to get rid of, he. shakily laid himself on to the ground, staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

despite the sweat pouring down his face, and well, everywhere else, he was shivering like crazy. he wanted to go to bed, but he couldn't stand up. hell, he couldn't even sit up.

the swirling ceiling was confusing the shit out of him. he was extremely disoriented. he barely remembered who he was- WHERE he was. he just knew his stomach was churning, and pins and needles were inching up his spine. it felt like how a static t.v. looked.

knock knock knock knock.

tommy curled up. he could hear knocking, but he couldn't sit up. he couldn't call out. he couldn't do anything. whoever was on the other side wasn't saying anything and it was frustrating to tommy.

knock knock knock knock.

tommy still couldn't speak or do jack shit. a sarcastic 'oh yeah, i'll be out soon' ran through his mind as he slowly moved his hands up to his ears.

bang bang bang bang

was the knocking getting louder or was tommy's brain just taking the piss?? he couldn't fucking tell.

crash crash crash crash

fuck fuck fuck. why couldn't this fuck head just go away?? why?? tommy gave the tiniest whimper, feeling tears wet his cheeks. mother fucker. he was overwhelmed to say the least.he turned so that the side of his cheek was touching the floor.

the coldness of the tile was oddly grounding. he took a few shaky breaths. he was tommy henley. he was seventeen. he was currently on the- compared to the toilet- considerably less clean floor of his bathroom, and he was really fucking tired. he opened his eyes. he could properly make out the light blue wall and the white trim at the bottom of it. it no longer looked like he was looking through a kaleidoscope. he touched the wall- doing so somehow verified that everything that he'd just reminded himself of was, in fact, true. he was tommy henley, he was seventeen, and he was pretty grossed out by the floor.

he waited until the wall was perfectly clear before he pushed himself into a sitting position. he waited for a few minutes before he stood up, using the sink to help him out. he turned the faucet on, splashing cold water onto his face. he was fine. the knocking he'd been hearing before was quiet now. 

he stared at himself in the mirror. he was a disaster, though to be fair, he often was. he sighed, using a hand towel to dry off his face. after a couple minutes of hyping himself up, he opened the door and walked across the quiet hallway, opening the door to his bedroom.

he turned his light on so that he could find some pyjamas and go to bed. the blonde closed the door behind him with a tired sigh, turning to his dresser, and damn near yelling when he saw techno seated in his spinning chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey boys, percy here! a few things i would like to talk about :) 
> 
> a. sorry for not uploading last week! i was tired as hell and i didn't finish the chapter whoops
> 
> b. sorry this chapter is so fucking short 😭😭 i just could not fucken write it for some reason.
> 
> c. remember i actually have a discord server for this story (and for just me in general since im so popular and well liked) that you can join for the low low price of entering this url into your browser and accepting to join stupid bitches inc. ( here's the link : https://discord.gg/rSTNyFsy8G )


	12. emotions? what the fuck?

"jesus fucking christ, dude," tommy yelped, wiping his face aggressively of any tears or water that should still be there. "we've fucking talked about this shit," he sat on his bed. techno shrugged. 

"yeah, i know. don't know why you really expected me to listen though," the pink haired boy responded. 

"fair enough. look, i'm not in the mood for your bullshit today. get out," he ordered. he didn't really think he was going to get out of whatever techno was planning on putting him through, but it was worth the shot.

"no," was techno's simple answer. tommy had seen it coming, but he let out an annoyed groan nonetheless. 

"fine. let me change then," he was too tired to really argue. techno spun in his chair so that he was facing the other direction. grumbling quietly to himself, tommy found some pyjamas- a zelda shirt that was too small, and some random pair of basketball shorts that were way too big. he turned so that his back was to techno's as he changed. once he was comfortably dressed and sat on his bed, he spoke. "okay, now what the hell do you want?"

techno spun back around in the chair, putting his foot down so that he was stopped when he was facing tommy. "to talk,"

" 'bout what?" tommy asked.

" 'bout what?' " techno mocked sarcastically. he adjusted so that he was sitting in the chair more comfortably- comfortably for techno being so that he was seated in the chair like some sort of weird anime character, tommy knew which one, he just couldn't put his finger on which one. some letter or something. "don't act like an idiot. even i know that was rough,"

tommy shrugged. "he wasn't wro-"

"don't say that," techno interrupted, surprising tommy. techno didn't usually interrupt people. he usually waited for them to finish what they were saying before pointing out how stupid and or/wrong they were. "listen, wilbur's an idiot. a scared idiot," they sat in silence for a few minutes before techno got up and sat beside tommy. "i know what it's like, you know. bein' new here. bein' fostered 'n all that,"

once again, tommy shrugged. he was surprised his arms were still in their sockets. "yeah, no shit," and rather than scowl like tommy would have expected, techno gave a sarcastic laugh.

"you're such a little shit, tommy," the pink haired boy said.

"yeah, whatever. listen, i don't want your bullshit," 

"lucky for you, i actually don't care what you want," techno smiled smugly and tommy groaned.

"fine, just- don't give me some bullshit lore exposition. i don't give a single shit about you when you were younger or anything like that at all,"

"it's almost like you don't understand that i don't care," tommy grumbled to himself at techno's bitch ass. 

techno remembered when his name wasn't techno watson. it felt weird to think back to when phil wasn't his father. he usually didn't. as far as he was concerned, phil was his "real" father. it felt like he just always had been.

when techno was five years old, he said goodbye to his mother. he didn't remember all that much about her. he did remember that she was sick. he also didn't actually get to say a proper goodbye. he and his father would visit her at the doctors every single day, and then one day, they stopped. he remembered asking his dad for two weeks when they were going to see her again, and finally after sixteen days of techno asking (he'd been counting) and his father responding with "soon", something snapped.

"we're not going to be seeing mommy anymore," his father had crouched down so that he could make eye contact with his son. techno broke it, looking down at his fingers instead.

"why? isn't she lonely?" he had been under the impression that they were visiting her daily to keep her company, and now they hadn't seen her for "sixteen whole days. we haven't visited for sixteen whole days," his dad forced a smile.

"wow tech, that's really high. good job," he praised. techno didn't smile back.

"why aren't we going to see mom?"

"techno," his dad sighed. "mom is gone,"

a moment of silence passed.

"yeah? she's at the hospital..? that's why we have to go visit her..?" techno was pretty sure that his dad was losing his marbles.

"no, tech, she's not at the hospital," 

"why not? is she better??" he didn't know why she wasn't home if she was better. he'd been waiting for her to read him a proper story fit a whole life time (well, only about a year, but same difference). his father didn't do it right. he just didn't have the fun voices to do it properly.

"she's not better, tech, she's-" his dad paused and cleared his throat. "she's gone, tech. mom isn't at the hospital, she's just gone," techno was confused, and vocalized this.

"i'm confused. where is she?" explaining things to children was basically talking to a wall, and explaining to them that their mother was dead was seven billion times harder.

"gone, techno," his dad said for what must have been the seven hundredth time. this time, he raised his voice. though techno really still had no idea what was going on, something told him it was something serious. he stopped asking questions then. 

home was quiet for the next month. except nights. he remembered his dad coming in his room sometimes, talking really loud and smelling really funny. techno never really know what he was talking about since his words always came out like they were just one really long word. one of these nights when he was smelled funny, techno had brought up his mom. dad was angry.

"the hell did you say?"

"i asked if you could read me the story," he pulled the third harry potter book out from under his bed where it was safely stored for when his mom would come home. "but do the voices. like mom," 

"mom is gone, techno," 

"i know! but if you can just do the voices like her-"

a resounding smack rang throughout the room, followed by the sound of the heavy book dropping and rolling to the ground. techno felt his eyes water and a burning on his cheek.

techno didn't bring up his mom after that, but it didn't really matter. his dad would still talk loud, smell funny, and hit hard. it was once every other week, then once a week, then daily.

it was five days of going to school with a black eye that he learned that (according to his dad) he apparently wasn't supposed to go talking about what had actually happened to his face. he'd brought it up nonchalantly once his teacher had asked, prioritizing coloring properly in the lines over whatever she had to say. he didn't know it was against the rules.

a week later, techno remembered reading the word "orphanage" as his dad was taking him to what he said was camp. he also remembered someone else was in the car. he didn't recognize her, or remember her name, but she seemed very nice. at the time, the ripe age of five, techno didn't know what orphanage meant.

he stood aimlessly as the woman from the car, his father, and some other woman from the 'camp' talked. they were basically whispering. techno couldn't even hear what they were saying. one of the ladies gave techno a smile once they were done talking, and she stepped out of the room. the car woman stepped towards the door but didn't leave. techno's dad turned to his son.

"okay, bud, you ready for camp?" he asked, trying to put his hand on techno's shoulder. techno pulled out of the touch.

"yeah,"

"once camp is over, i'll come and get you, and we can both go and see mom together. okay?" he spoke with a kindness that techno hadn't heard in months. techno looked at him skeptically.

"promise?" he held his pinky finger out.

"promise," his dad linked pinkies.

fourteen days into 'camp' and techno was bored. the days were long and eventless and the people in charge were mean to him. twenty six days into camp, techno was busy learning what was higher than forty, because he'd never counted higher than thirty nine before. forty two days at camp, techno was glad that he'd learned what came after forty. ninety seven days into camp, techno turned six years old, and he realized that camp wasn't going to be 'over'. dad wasn't coming to pick him back up, and they weren't going to see mom together. ninety eight days into camp, techno learned that numbers don't lie, but people do.

"wait, i'm sorry," tommy pulled his blanket up to his chin. "your dad told you that an orphanage was camp?"

techno nodded. "yup."

"dude, that's fucked up," tommy stroked duchess, who had slinked out from under his bed at some point during techno's rambling.

"yeah, no shit," techno rolled his eyes. "can i continue, or does your big mouth have anything else to say?"

"sorry, sorry. continue," tommy settled once again.

from the age of six years and one day, techno had a new day of looking at things. he'd never been very social, but now that the trust that he'd had in the person that he'd cared about most- his father- was broken, he became even less so. instead, he infatuated himself with numbers. unlike people, numbers don't lie to him. fourteen days was always going to be two weeks, no matter what. three hundred and sixty five days would always be a year. 

it was confusing at first- ya know, being six and all, he wasn't really the best with numbers in the beginning, but soon enough, numbers and percentages became his comfort. the first family he was stuck with didn't really seem to understand this.

when techno finally left the orphanage- he had learned what an orphanage was by now- it wasn't into the 'loving' arms of his father. instead, it was to the considerably more cold arms of the robinsons. they were a polite family. they didn't really try to be cold, and they didn't exactly do anything that made them cold, but they just had that sort of vibe about them.

the family was quiet. techno liked quiet. he had his own room that was fucking huge in comparison to the one he had at home. they also had a dog. techno was definitely more of a cat person. dogs were loud, plus they like, jumped around and all that. techno didn't care much for turtle, and he hated that he was called turtle when he was a dog. it just didn't make sense. techno lived with the robinsons for about nine months before being sent back. he was seven now.

"wait, i'm confused," tommy spoke. "why did they get rid of you?" 

"dunno. think some bull about how they weren't really ready for kids or something. they were just fostering and seeing how it worked out," techno explained. "plus the man didn't like me much. asked him all sorts of questions. always wanted to know the temperature, chance of rain. all that,"

"why?"

"i like numbers,"

"weird."

"shut up,"

techno was only at the dreadful place for around a month before he was taken in once again. this time by a blonde man with a kind smile and long hair. well, not long, it only went to around his shoulders, but longer than most men that techno had seen before. phil was very nice and very understanding. techno learned this pretty quickly. 

phil was shit with numbers. he couldn't even tell you nine multiplied by twelve without thinking about it first.

"but phil helped me with my calculus homework-" tommy interrupted.

"tommy, shut up,"

"yeah, fuck you,"

this was apparently something phil realized he'd have to fix pretty quickly. techno was one… interesting kid. when he woke up on his first day living there and came down for breakfast, phil knew he absolutely adored this kid.

techno sleepily rubbed his eyes, sitting at the table and looking out the window. "what's the chance of rain today?" he asked. phil did a double take where he stood, flipping pancakes. 

"what?" he looked over at the kid, who had been short for a seven year old. he could barely see him from this angle.

"rain." techno repeated.

"uhm.. i'm not too sure. i can turn on the news if you want?" phil offered. techno nodded, so phil put the finished pancake on a plate and the empty pan on a burner that wasn't on, before heading to the living room and turning in the television. the news was only a few clicks away from the random kids show that phil had turned on before. he was glad to change that shit, because he wanted nothing to do with the terrifying people in suits that made them look like some sort of fucked up plushie. yeah, fuck that noise. once the monotonous voices of the newscasters came from the television, phil returned to the kitchen.

"thank you," techno said once phil returned.

"no problem, techno," phil smiled, returning to the pancakes. "any particular reason that you want to know the chance of rain?" he asked, splitting the four pancakes between two plates, and turning the heat up on his slowly scrambling eggs. 

"i like the numbers," techno responded. phil raised an eyebrow.

"the numbers?"

"yeah. percentages."

"really?" 

"yeah,"

"well," phil smiled again. "do you have any interesting numbers for me? like statistics, you know," he inquired. techno nodded.

"yeah. one third- that's thirty three point three percent-" techno was proud of himself for knowing that "of adults still sleep with comfort items from when they were kids," he informed.

"really?" phil asked curiously.

"yeah. do you?" techno watched as a plate with two pancakes and a pile of eggs was placed in front of him. "thank you,"

"no problem," phil sat down with his own food. "do i sleep with a comfort item?" he asked. techno nodded. "i guess so. i have a blanket from when i was younger on my bed," phil shrugged. techno seemed pleased that phil was a part of the thirty three point three percent. "do you have something like that?"

"yes. i have a pig. his name is the blade-"

"you have a pig called the blade? dude, why?"

"yo, tommy, have you ever heard of the orphan obliterator?" 

"...no?"

"you're about to meet it if you don't shut the fuck up,"

"jesus christ, okay,"

phil had wheezed upon learning the name of the plush, forcing himself to swallow his coffee before he spit it out everywhere. "the blade? how come?"

"i dunno. sounded cool," he explained.

"makes sense," phil nodded. 

the rest of their breakfast consisted of phil asking for interesting facts and techno providing. phil learned that techno was interested in not only statistics and percentages, but numbers in general. he asked exactly how much pancake mix went in to their pancakes. phil told him that it was about a cup and a half, and techno said that next time he should keep a better track of it. phil nodded and said that he would. 

from then on, phil woke techno up with the weather already in mind. they would sit down to breakfast with not only the breakfast, but with approximately how much of what went in to it. it always seemed to soothe techno.

morning techno, be sure to put your rain poncho in your bag, there's a thirty two percent chance of rain today. tonight we're having spaghetti with one cup of sauce and about seventy noodles (phil didn't actually know how many noodles there were, but neither did techno, so)

these things became more than regular in their household, and they quickly fell into a rhythm. phil became a bit more of a number person, and techno became more comfortable around phil. 

techno could also remember the first time that he called phil his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i know this isnt a proper ending to a chapter and that is because i havent finished it yet but i wanted to keep you updated anyways 😎😎 better this than nothing ! see you next week ha


	13. emotions? what the fuck? (but part 2)

it had been a rough day. he'd gotten a B on a spelling test at school, and had been in a sour mood ever since he'd gotten home. phil was trying his best to cheer him up, but he was definitely not great at it. it was only when techno threw the homework that was having a hard time on onto the ground when phil realized. this was a bit deeper than a B on some stupid test.

techno didn't throw tantrums like most other seven year olds that phil knew. when he was angry or upset or something, he just went eerily quiet. it was almost scary- he was like some weird ass victorian ghost kid in the way that he silently sulked throughout the house. it was easier to handle, sure, but phil wasn't sure if it was exactly the healthiest way for a seven year old to be coping with his emotions.

"woah, buddy," phil looked up from the paperwork he'd been filling out. he was lucky enough to bring his work home with him when he needed to. "what's up?" he asked techno crossed his arms.

"it's stupid. makes no sense," he explained. phil raised an eyebrow. techno rarely struggled with his homework, and when he did, he didn't go about throwing his shit on the ground, he asked phil for help.

"that's it?" phil asked. techno responded with a nod. "you're sure?" another nod. "i can help you with your homework if you need it," phil offered, skeptical, but not wanting to push too much.

"okay," techno responded quietly, getting up and retrieving the papers that were scattered on the floor as paper stood up and walked to the other side of the table beside techno. once they were all settled, phil looked at the paper. 

"alright, which one of these was giving you trouble?" he asked. techno pointed at the problem. it was seven times three. now phil knew that something was wrong. techno knew his time tables all the way up to nine basically by heart. still, he bit his tongue. "oh, right, well you know this one, tech, just count up on your fingers," he said. techno made no attempt to do this, so phil held up his own fingers- seven of them. "why don't we just both do it together?" 

"okay," techno agreed, then began counting out loud. after the first seven, they started at the first finger once again, techno's tiny fingers tapping each of phil's considerably bigger ones each time he said a number. at eight, techno seemed considerably less enthusiastic before, which was saying something considering he had been incredibly unenthusiastic. by the time they were at sixteen, he had a tear rolling down his cheek.

"woah, woah, woah, mate, we can take a break if you want to," phil offered, putting his fingers down and crouching so that he was more at eye level. techno sniffled and wiped a tear from his eyes, shaking his head.

"no it's n- it's not the math," techno explains himself, finding more tears rolling down his cheeks as did so. phil sat on his knees so that he was looking up at techno. he'd learned that this was a way to make whoever was looking down at hin feel as if they were more in control. sounded weird, but human brains tend to work in peculiar ways.

"okay, that's fine, buddy," phil placed his hands gently in techno's lap, where he carefully gripped one of his hands. techno allowed this. "do you want to tell me what's really wrong then?" he asked cautiously. techno shook his head, taking a shuttering breath and wiping his eyes with his free hand. "that's okay too. we can sit here and relax instead," he reassured. only a few seconds later, techno spoke in a meek and shaky voice.

"i-i just don't get it," he explained, looking straight ahead instead of down at phil.

"don't get what, bud?" phil asked.

"why didn't daddy want me?" techno looked down at phil, locking eyes. it was fucking heartbreaking to see. like literally- phil could feel his heart shattering into about seven billion little tiny pieces. the young boys chocolate brown eyed were shimmering with tears, and they were pouring down like they were fucking sink faucets or something. he almost barely could get himself to speak.

"oh, no, baby, it's not that he didn't want you," phil explained, gulping down the lump in his throat. "he just couldn't take care of you. he wanted you in the best possible place you could be, and right now, it just isn't with him," he supposed he fucking should've expected that at some point he'd have to explain why any kid he took in was being fostered or adopted, but he really hadn't seen it coming and had no idea how to explain it. plus he hadn't expected it to be so god damn hard.

"b-but why not?" techno wailed, pulling his hand from where phil held it and using it to aggressively wipe the tears away. it was doing basically nothing, because they were coming down by the bucket, but he kept at it nonetheless. it made him feel better-ish. "he's been taking ca-care of me fo-for five years, why can't he anymore? i-i just wanna see him again- and mommy," it felt unnatural to hear techno call anyone mommy or daddy, because he was always so weirdly formal for a youngin, but- 

wait- mommy? phil gulped once again. oh shit. why the fuck was this kid wanting to see his mom? his mom was dead- surely he knew this, right?? surely phil was not about to have to explain to this kid that he had been fostering for only about five months that his mom was dead. oh come on- this was fucked. mother fucker. if phil actually knew techno's dad, he may have put a fucking hand through his teeth.

"oh- techno- honey-" phil cleared his throat. "i'm sorry, but i don't think you're going to be seeing daddy anymore- or mommy," he sounded as cool and collected as he possibly could, even though he wasn't sure exactly how he was alive due to the fact that his heart was in like a million little tiny bits.

"but- but why not?? i-i miss them," techno's words are barely words at this point- they're basically just noises shoved together into what phil made an inference to be a sentence. 

"well- dad just isn't capable of taking care of you anymore and i don't think he will be any time soon, honey-"

"BUT WHAT ABOUT MOMMY," techno raised his voice this time, and it actually almost scared the shit out of phil, because this kid never raised his voice, he was a soft spoken and generally sweet kid, and honestly, raising his voice felt wrong in phil's opinion. not as wrong as having to explain to this fucker that his mom was dead though. that was fucked.

"techno, mommy is gone," phil said softly. this seemed to genuinely piss techno off.

"that's what daddy said," techno was hyperventilating at this point. "wher-where did she go??? i do- i don't get it- i just want her! where did she go??" phil grimaced. how was he supposed to explain?? he didn't fucking know- his best guess was six feet under somewhere, but he couldn't very well say this to a kid. 

he didn't wanna push some weird religious shit on him, because fuck dude, he didn't even think he believed in any weird as religion. he could give him that weird spiel when pets died where parents were like oh they went to the farm in the sky, but that felt wrong. he was a lot less prepared for this parenting this than he thought.

"honestly, techno, i don't know," he spoke quietly, gently rubbing the kids thighs. "she- well- she passed away. i can't really tell you where she is, cause i don't know. i've never experienced it. i'm sorry, honey," techno took this surprisingly well. he sort of understood this- he watched bambi before, he knew what happened kinda.

"like bambi's mom?" techno asked, giving a few pathetic sniffles.

phil nodded with a sad smile. "yeah, like bambi's mom," he opened his arms to techno and after only a few moments of hesitation, techno threw himself into the man's open arms. phil wrapped his arms around the boy tightly.

for a while, they sat there on the dining room floor. techno doing his best to collect himself, and phil rubbing his back gently, a couple tears dripping down his own cheeks. this parenting shit was hard, dude. he wanted to be the best dad that he could, but he hadn't been prepared for all this. feeling prepared or not, he knew right then and there that he was going to protect him with his life. 

techno pressed his face into phil's chest, very slowly doing his best to relax. it was hard, and his head and his chest were hurting, but phil being there was helping it feel better. for the first time since his mom was home, techno felt like he was home. not just some random house. home. 

"techno, honey," phil spoke up after a bit. the light from the day had made it so that they didn't need a light on before, but at this point, they'd been sitting here for a decent half hour and it was starting to get dark. 

"mmm..?" he was tired. all this crying was starting to drain his energy.

"why don't we go up to your room? maybe we can take a nap?" he offered. techno gave a sleepy nod, and went to move, but phil just stood up, holding his kid tightly enough so that he wouldn't actually fall, but loose enough that it didn't actually hurt. techno allowed this and shifted so that his head was resting on phil's shoulder. he watched as his math homework faded out of view as they went up the stairs and to his bedroom.

"mm, won't have my homework done for tomorrow," techno pointed out. phil gave a soft chuckle, nodding in agreement as he carefully opened the bedroom door with one hand, keeping techno secure with the other.

"that's alright. i was thinking maybe we skip school tomorrow. maybe we go for breakfast and then watch movies at home all day tomorrow?" he offered. techno thought on this for a moment.

"that's allowed?" he asked. phil laughed again as he set techno on the bed gently.

"yeah, buddy, that's allowed. what do you think? wanna do it?" he crouched down and plugged in the little nightlight that was sat on the ground by the door. it was shaped like a crown.

"yeah, that sounds good," techno agreed, kicking his shoes off before pulling his blanket over him. 

"alright. come downstairs whenever you wake up- get to sleep as late as you want," phil says, leaning in the doorway as he watched techno get comfortable. "sound good?"

techno nodded. "yeah." he could feel his eyes drooping until they eventually closed.

"alright," phil smiled as he clicks off the light. "good night, techno," he said softly.

"mmm, g'night phil," techno's voice was basically a whisper as he turned his back to the door, holding his stuffed pig tightly. phil hovered there for a moment, watching as techno's breathing slowed and finally kept a normal pace. after he was sleeping, phil hovered a few moments more before closing the door all but a crack.

he headed back downstairs, turning the lights on. he looked at the homework that techno had left and picked up the pencil that had been left there, writing a 21 under the problem that techno had been struggling with and smiling to himself.

he kept quiet for the rest of the night, making himself a quick dinner of some ramen that he simply microwaved because he didn't feel up to boiling water on the stove, then watching some bullshit channel on the television. he couldn't tell you what was on, because he frankly wasn't paying attention. he was thinking about his kid- yeah, this was his kid. he knew from the beginning he was keeping this kid, and today, he really locked it in. of course, he would see how techno felt about it, but he was certain.

once it was getting late, like one in the morning- he turned the television and the lights downstairs off before heading up to bed. first, he stopped into techno's room to check in on him. he seemed asleep enough. phil stood idly for a moment before going to close the door.

"phil," techno's voice was almost silent in the quiet. 

"yeah, buddy?" phil asked, surprised that the kid was awake so late.

"thank you," he whispered. 

"you're welcome, buddy," he smiled. "night,"

"night," techno responded. phil figured this would be the end of the conversation, so went to close the night "dad," techno added on at the last possible second. 

phil felt the heart that had shattered into a billion pieces before reconnect almost instantly. holy shit. HE PULLED THE FUCKING D CARD?? AFTER THAT WHOLE CRISIS BEFORE?? WHAT?? "night, son," was phil's quiet response. he closed the door gently behind him.

a few moments of silence rang throughout the room.

"wow," tommy said finally. "that's.. rough but also.. good?" he seemed unsure if he was phrasing his thoughts correctly, because honestly, he wasn't sure if he was. he had already been sure that techno had it rough- most kids around these parts (these parts being the foster system) did, but that felt… really rough.

"yeah," techno agreed, shifting. they were both seated so that their lanky legs were hanging off the short side of the bed, so it wasn't exactly comfortable, but neither of them really felt like moving. "but the point is, i know what it's like. having it rough around here. it seems shitty at first, and yeah, wilbur is kinda a dick, but it gets better. phil cares about you. wilbur- beneath all his huge being a dick-ness cares about you." he paused. "me too." 

"aweeeee- techno cares about meee," tommy teased, looking at the cat who sat in his lap. "you hear that duchess? he cares about me," he told her. duchess could not give any less shits, looking boredly between tommy and techno before closing her eyes once again and resting her head back on tommy's lap.

"oh my god, you are such a little shit," techno rolls his eyes, going to get up. 

"no- no wait- i'm joking," tommy places his hand on techno's arm, causing him to stop. he settles once again with a somewhat smug smile.

"yeah, yeah, whatever. listen, it's late. wanna watch a movie or something?" techno asked, tapping around the bed before retrieving the remote from underneath a pile of blankets.

"yeah, okay," tommy agreed, leaning so that his back was against the wall. "you can pick," he added.

"alright," techno scrolled aimlessly through netflix- ah the joy of smart t.v.'s- before landing on up. personally, he didn't care either way about the movie, but he knew that tommy quite liked it. "sound good?" he asked. tommy nodded. he pressed play, then got up and turned off the light before settling once again, sitting beside tommy. the quiet, familiar tune of the introduction music began.

when phil opened the door a while later, he heard voices first thing.

"mr. fredrickson, you're cheating," a child's voice stated. phil looked and saw the t.v. was on. it was the weird boy scout kid from up. on the bed, sat two teens, one of whom was snoring quietly, and the other was completely silent. tommy's head was rested on techno's shoulder, and drool was leaking from his mouth onto his shirt. phil was pretty sure if techno were actually awake, he'd be more than disgusted.

phil was almost grossed out himself, but he was more focused on how cute it was overall than that specific little gross bit. he smiled and took a mental picture in his mind, before whispering "good night," and closing the door behind him. 

he could faintly hear a "maybe i need new glasses" from the other side of the door, and he could basically picture the ending scene of the film where the house was sat on the waterfall where it was destined to be the whole time. phil was pretty sure that this house would soon be their house as well. it was a rocky road, but they'd soon reach their own paradise falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i know the ending is cheesey i didn't know how to wrap it up lmaooo im sorry anyways yeah that is all, i hope you had/are having a great day, feel free to tell me about it in the comments and join the server if you wanna 😎
> 
> https://discord.gg/rSTNyFsy8G


	14. killin' time gettin' high

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning i guess for underage smokin of weed and alcohol consumption!

now, we rewind just a bit. yes, yes, techno and tommy still have their heartwarming little family talk and all that good shit, but whilst all that was happening, we can't just leave wilbur in the dust. ya know, he just annihilated this kid, he didn't simply cease to exist after all that. now we sit once again in the kitchen, though this time, it's just after tommy headed up the stairs. 

phil waited until he heard a door shut before he finally spoke.

"what the hell was that, wilbur?" he asked, trying his hardest to keep his voice quiet and calm despite quite literally shaking with anger. he hated yelling at his kids, he really did, he knew the sorta shit they had to deal with before they got around to his place, truly, so he didn't wanna pull anything that could fuck them over mentally or anything. 

"he- i don't-" wilbur didn't fucking know how to explain himself. he was pissed too. he didn't exactly know what he was angry about, he was just, well, angry. "fuck, i don't fucking know, he was just being a fucking assho-"

"he's sixteen, wilbur, of course he's going to be a fucking asshole. that's like their whole thing," phil answered. at this point, techno realized how exceptionally awkward he felt sitting here watching his dad just yell at his brother, so he silently swept past them and quietly padded up the stairs. neither phil nor wilbur paid him any mind.

"yeah but-" wilbur tried, only to be interrupted.

"but? there's no 'but' about it wilbur, i don't give a damn if that kid calls you a dick to your face and flips you off, there's no god damn excuse to tell him he's never gonna be a part of this fucking family. he's a child. a fucking child,"

"god," wilbur put his cup on the counter and threw his hands up in annoyance. "he's sixteen, he's hardly a child- besides you're fucking taking his side for this shit? he's been here five fucking months! i'm your kid! your god damn kid, you're supposed to side with me!" he knew he sounded childish, but he was upset and angry and ya know what, he was almost 18 but he was a fucking child. phil's child at that.

"wilbur, i'm taking the side of who's in the right and it's not you- and tommy is my child too-"

"no he's not!" wilbur exclaimed. "you- you- you're-" he didn't know what the hell phil was, but whatever it was, he sure fucking was it. 

"i'm what, wilbur?" phil asked, and wilbur was pissed at how fucking calmly he asked this. he wanted his dad to be mad, or to yell at him, or fucking something.

"fuck you," wilbur said simply, turning and heading towards the front door. he slipped his shoes on as his dad yelled after him.

"wilbur, watch your mouth- where the hell do you think you're going?" 

"out," was wilburs simple answer, pulling on his coat.

"the hell you are- get back here, go to your room- you're fucking grounded," phil ordered, stepping around broken glass as wilbur pulled open the door.

"bye," wilbur ignored everything his father was saying, stepping outside and slamming the door behind him.

"wilbur- WILBUR-" phil tried as the door closed, stopping when he was met with a closed door to the face. he could chase after him. hell, he could even just open the door and yell for him, he was sure that wilbur would probably come back if he did, but he didn't. instead, he swallowed his pride and let him go. phil was doing his best, he really was, but he knew he wasn't the best at what being a dad and he never would be. with a heavy sigh and a heavy heart, he turned his back to the door.

techno was stood at the top of the stairs, a concerned look covering his face where he stood. 

"don't worry, he's blowing off steam. i'll talk with him tomorrow. you're gonna talk to tommy?" phil asked. he knew wilbur well enough to know that he most likely wouldn't be home that same night, and he knew techno well enough that in his departure, he would've been going to check on tommy. he was a sweet kid, even if he didn't like to show it.

"yeah, he's in the bathroom right now. i'm gonna wait for him in his room.." techno responded, implying that he'd be going at that point, but staying there for a moment longer. "are.. you okay?" he asked. phil smiled tiredly.

"yeah. i'm fine, buddy. i've got to head in to work early tomorrow. you think you can make sure everyone gets to school properly in the morning for me?" phil asked.

"yeah, i can," techno assured, giving a slight smile.

"thanks, tech," phil said softly. a moment of quiet passed between them, then the quiet sound of the sink running could be heard.

"i better go. want to catch him before he goes to bed or something," techno turned. "good night. love you," he said before disappearing into the hallway.

"night. love you too," phil waved his kid off before heading to the kitchen to pick up tommy's shattered glass.

it was fucking cold outside. wilbur had his car keys, but he didn't want to drive. his mind was wandering to the point where he was decently sure if he sat behind a wheel, he'd end up crashing, despite the fact that he knew the route he was heading by heart

besides, wilbur didn't mind the cold. it was refreshing, and it clashed nicely against his face which was red fucking hot. he zipped his coat up, shoving his hands into his pockets. he felt his phone, his keys, and his wallet, all of which he was thankful for. it would be awkward if he had to go back for his wallet now.

he pulled his phone out, bringing up schlatt's contact.

'window.' was all he said.

'Kay.' came schlatt's instant reply.

schlatt was wilburs best friend and someone he knew he could always count on. they'd always been close, but these last few months especially schlatt's house had basically been his own second home. the other teens parents didn't mind wilbur- they graciously welcomed the kid into their house, but ya know, being woken up at the hours that wilbur tended to come around was rather irritating, so he usually just came through the window.

it was only a couple blocks that he had to walk, and the entire time, all he could think about was how much he wanted to scream or cry or maybe both.

once he got to schlatt's house, he went around to the side of the house as inconspicuously as he could so that it didn't look like he was breaking in to some random house, ya know. luckily, schlatt's neighbours were used to him.

"hey wilbur," nancy, a middle aged woman who lived next door to schlatt greeted as wilbur tried his best to open the window to his friends room. it was unlocked now, thanks to the text, but schlatt always refused to open it until wil got there because it was fucking cold.

"hey nancy. night shift?" he asked as the woman shut and locked her door.

"yup. getting high?" she inquired.

"yup," he confirmed as the window finally slid open, thanks to the help of schlatt who had seen wil's struggling and finally came to his aid.

"oh hey, nancy," schlatt waved.

"hey. have fun, guys. be responsible," she waved before heading to her car. the duo waved before wilbur climbed into the window as quietly as he possibly could. at this point he was basically a ninja with this particular window, because he could be basically silent when climbing in.

"hey," schlatt greeted, closing the window behind wilbur and sitting on his bed. wilbur sat on the ground, unzipping his coat and tossing it onto a chair that was already covered in clothes.

"hey," wilbur responded. he laid on the floor, scooting so that his feet were against the wall below the window. he stared at the light, waiting for schlatt to get his shit together. after distinct shuffling and rustling, which wilbur had grown to recognize as finding his weed and bong from wherever it was hidden from, schlatt joined him on the floor. he put his head beside wilburs, but his body facing the opposite direction. his feet were against the opposite wall. for a few minutes, they just sat in silence. 

schlatt knew that if wilbur wanted to talk about it, he would, so he didn't press. he tended to act like a huge douchebag, yeah, but he cared about his friends. more or less. 

once he got bored of just sitting there, he sat up, sitting criss crossed and getting to work in packing his bowl and all. after about a minute more of staring at the ceiling, wilbur did the same, sitting up and crossing his legs.

"ready to talk?" schlatt asked, offering the bong to wilbur first, who accepted both it and the lighter. 

"just about," he hit the bong, a relaxed feeling washing over him as he slowly exhaled. it was always refreshing no matter how many times he'd done it. he handed it to schlatt, who took it and made a go on then gesture with his hand. "i was a dick. to tommy,"

"what else is new?" schlatt asked jokingly through a cough. wilbur punched his arm lightly in response.

"don't be an asshole. i was really mean. and i feel bad, but fucking hell. my dad was being such an asshole about it," he took his turn with the bong once again. schlatt nodded in understanding. parents. they're the worst sometimes.

"well, what did you say to tommy?" schlatt asked curiously. he could tell by the way that wilbur took a second hit to stall that it wasn't great.

"welll,," he said as he returned it to schlatt. they were falling into an easy pattern of hit and return. "i kinda said 'when i said you weren't gonna be part of this family, that wasn't a challenge'.. or something like that," wilbur explained. schlatt nearly choked on the smoke in his mouth, wheezing as he exhaled.

"jesus fucking christ, wilbur, whaat?" he asked, genuinely surprised that words with such malice could come from his friend. he was definitely the asshole in this friendship, and wilbur was like.. the one who apologized on his behalf. it was sort of what kept their friendship solid.

"oh fuck you. you've said- and DONE worse. we both know what you did to those women in 1995," wilbur said with a huff.

"fair," schlatt agreed. it was not, in fact, true. neither of them were alive in 1995, let alone capable of doing anything to any women in that year. (and that's what you'll tell the cops too if you're no fucking narc and you don't wanna end up like the women 1995) "but still. seems harsh," 

"yeahh, i know. i don't know what i was thinking, i'm just so tired of my dad focusing every waking minute on him, ya know. like fuck, we had such a nice thing going, everything was good, and then BOOM, new kid that he puts everything into!" he said with an upset tone, repacking the bowl while schlatt watched.

"i mean yeah, that probably sucks. what specifically don't you like about tommy though? kinda sounds like you're more pissed at phil than him," schlatt pointed out. it always felt weird when he had to be the sensible one, considering he usually acted on impulse and did stupid and sometimes mildly offensive shit and wilbur was the one to be like hey nimrod shut the fuck up. 

"he's a total dick! he was trying to talk shit about you and the boys," wilbur responded, passing the bong back. this feels oddly redundant in writing, so you'll have to use your imagination to assume that they keep up their pattern of hitting and passing, because author is tired of writing that shit. "that's why i said what i said,"

"wait, he doesn't even know us. how the hell was he talking shit?" schlatt asked.

"fucking exactly! he doesn't! he was just being a dick!" wilbur responded, glad that he wasn't going crazy and someone else could see that tommy was being a dick here. 

"yeah, i guess he sorta had it coming, but you were a bit too harsh. i say you should've called him a bastard and left it at that," schlatt said. wilbur seemed to think on this for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"yeah, probably. i'm gonna apologize in the morning, but i wanted to get the hell out of there for tonight," wilbur explained. schlatt nodded. 

"makes sense," they sat quietly for a few minutes. "wanna go sit outside the convenient store looking depressed until some idiot buys us alcohol?" schlatt offered. wil snorted and shook his head.

"i think it's supposed to snow, i'm not fucken sitting outside until some jackoff offers us some beer," they'd tried this a couple times before, and it actually had worked, but it took too long, plus the manager always yelled at them for loitering, which was fair.

"makes sense. i'll go check the liquor cabinet then. if i find anything good, i say we go and at least get a slushie?" schlatt offered. 

"deal," wil agreed as schlatt stood up. as the younger left to go and find the alcohol and shit, wilbur did his best to put everything up. carefully shoving the bong under the bed and grimacing ever so slightly at the quietest cracking noise. he stuffed the bag of weed underneath schlatt's pillow and, after standing idly with it for a moment, he pocketed the lighter.

after a moment or two, schlatt returned with a bottle of vodka. 

"i'm baaack," he hummed as he quietly closed the door behind him. they both waited a moment to make sure no one was coming at the noise. nothing seemed to budge in the house, so they continue. "found this," he showed wilbur the bottle.

"vodka slushies," wil nodded. "sounds good to me," he pushed the window open and stood for a few minutes as schlatt pulled his shoes and coat. "ready?" he asked.

"yup, let's go," schlatt was out the window first, and wilbur followed shortly behind. luckily, schlatt had come to discover that his coat pockets were huge, and thus big enough to fit a bottle of vodka in them.

the walk was pretty quiet. the two of them made stupid remarks at random shit, but they were both more focused on keeping themselves warm in the freezing fucking weather and the slightly falling snow. maybe slushies weren't the best choice, but vodka slushies were the fucking best, so he would be damned if he didn't get one.

the familiar ringing noise of the automatic doors opening was relieving, but only because it was fucking freezing outside, and even though corner stores are always overly air conditioned, it was better than the snow.

"evening," the bored sounding cashier greeted. 

"hulloo," wilbur greeted. schlatt simply gave a wave as they headed straight towards the slushie machine. they made their own drinks- schlatt mixing a cherry and coke slush up, whilst wilbur opted for cherry and blue raspberry. after bullshitting around the aisles and giggling between themselves for a minute and grabbing some miscellaneous munchies- chips, chocolates, ya know, the usual- they made their way up to the register.

"this gonna be all for you?" the cashier asked as he began ringing everything up. 

"yup, that's all," schlatt confirmed, the duo both pulling out their wallets to split the bill. 

"alright, sixteen fifty two is going to be that total," the man said, watching as the two high idiots struggled to do some simple math before schlatt pulled out eight bucks and wilbur grabbed a ten, handing it over. 

"you can keep the change!" he said, grabbing his slushie and the bag of food before waving and starting towards the door. schlatt grabbed his own slush, gave the cashier a confusing wink, and followed wilbur.

"have a good night," the cashier responded, waving at the two. he could hear the glass bottle- what he assumed was alcohol- clinging around in the clearly underaged kids pockets, but he didn't care, and he wasn't their baby sitter, so he watched the two dumbasses start back off into the night.

they got about a block away from the shop, to a mostly residential area, before stopping to actually make the slushies interesting.

"hold," schlatt ordered, handing wilbur his drink as he pulled the bottle from his coat pocket. wilbur used his teeth to pull open the slushies caps as schlatt unscrewed the vodka. "get your mouth away from my drink, weirdo," 

"oh piss off, i was just opening the lid, asshole," wilbur retorted, spitefully taking a sip of his friends drink. schlatt gave an over dramatic grossed out groan at this, despite not actually giving a shit, considering they'd shared their food and drinks for forever now and it wasn't actually a huge deal.

"whatever. hold them steady," schatt demanded, and wilbur did so as the other boy carefully poured a bit of alcohol into both drinks. once they were filled to the point where if they weren't too careful, they'd spill, schlatt put the cap back on and shoved the bottle back into his pocket. would it have been wiser to wait until they got comfortably at home until they were doing dumb, illegal shit? probably. did they care? not really. neither of them were eighteen quite yet, so technically speaking, if they got caught, they could definitely get arrested and have their alcohol confiscated. easy solution to that was to not get caught.

"cheers," wilbur handed schlatt's slushie back, and the two of them clinked the plastic together. it was stupid, and they both giggled as they took a sip. the immediate burning sensation was probably deserved, considering neither of them had actually mixed the drinks together at all, but still came as a shock to them both. "never gets any easier," he noted.

"nope, not at all," schlatt agreed as he tried his best to get the flimsy straw to mix the drinks together. it wasn't going all too well, but he figured it was worth the try anyways.

the next seventy odd minutes were a complete and total blur. wilbur took another sip of his drink- this time considerably bigger than the first- and the duo set off into the still falling snow. they considered going back to schlatt's house, and the cold was making this idea rather tempting, but the aesthetics of the situation were much more appealing, and the two absolute dumbasses stumbled about, playing in the snow like dumb kids. it was fun. doing "kid" stuff when you were seen as too old to be doing kid stuff was refreshing. it helped wilbur to clear his mind.

he laughed- like an actual loud and stupid fucking laugh- for the first time in a while. schlatt joined him in it too, calling him a total dumbass. schlatt had a decently thick boston accent, but when he was drunk, it was always like four times heavier. it made wilbur laugh harder, and schlatt had no idea why wil laughing harder made himself laugh harder, but it just happened that way. they were both aware that they must look like either maniacs, or just absolute idiots, but neither of them really cared. they were having fun being kids.

this lasted about thirty minutes. around thirty five minutes into their now drunken adventure, they heard the sound of police sirens. it was just one single car, and immediately their first thoughts were oh shit we're totally fucked. wil could remember sitting in the back of a police car with schlatt, the giddy feeling from only a few minutes before quickly fading. they were both silent the whole time. the officer was probably talking, giving them some boring ass lecture, but wilbur didn't really care. he was just wondering how dead he was going to be when his dad found out.

before he knew it, he was in a brightly lit police office. like seriously, it was way too fucking bright. a woman officer was sat in front of him, and schlatt was off being talked to by a man. now, usually, he knew the best way to get away with shit was just 'deny deny deny', don't say shit, but right now he was drunk, and light headed, and tired, and he wanted to just go home.

"so, what's your full name," the officer asked.

"wilbur. wilbur soot," wil responded. the woman took note of this.

"alright, wilbur, have you ever done anything like this before?" she asked.

"no, never," he answered honestly. they'd definitely drank before, and they'd definitely had vodka slushies and all, but they were usually smart enough to wait until they got back to schlatt's place. the woman noted this as well.

"alright, where did you guys get the alcohol?" she asked.

"my buddy," he gestured towards schlatt. "he got it from his parents' liquor cabinet or something," wilbur supplied. he was pretty sure if he heard the stupid pen scratching on the paper one more time, he'd snatch the pen and fucking snap it.

this went on for another twenty minutes or so, the woman asking questions, (had he ever been brought in before, what was he thinking, his parents phone numbers, all that shit) and wilbur answered. no funny business, and despite his hearts desires, no pen snapping.

then, he was seated in the entrance hallway of the station. he hadn't the slightest clue where schlatt was, but he could only assume he was getting the worst of it for being the one to have provided the alcohol. if his head wasn't pounding, he may have felt bad. he knew his dad was called and right now he was focused solely on how dead he was.

he closed his eyes, and suddenly, he was nine years old. he was new to phil's house, and it was nice. well, nice-ish. he didn't like techno much. the kid was about a year younger than him, and he was like seven times as smart. wilbur knew he wasn't dumb, he was a smart enough kid, who never got a lower grade than a seventy six percent, but techno was an exceptionally smart kid, who never got lower than like one hundred percent. the little bastard.

not to mention that phil gave him all of the attention he could. wilbur couldn't blame him, he was sure that it was hard to adjust from one kid to two, but it still left a weird feeling in his stomach. it wasn't that phil was like, neglecting him or something. he gave wilbur plenty of attention, it just.. never felt like enough. was he selfish? he was a kid, of course he was going to be decently selfish, but surely one couldn't blame him. he was fucking nine and he had plenty of daddy issues already.

he found himself pushing harder. he focused more on school, and did better than he ever had. phil definitely took notice, praising him for the work he was doing, but it never felt right. he never got quite as much as techno. maybe he was just crazy, but for some god forsaken reason, his heart was in a constant state of slight pain. it never actually was enough to be concerning, just a constant tinge in the bottom of it.

he opened his eyes abruptly, squinting in the bright light. he wasn't nine anymore, he was back to verging on eighteen, and his head was pounding once again. that felt fucking shitty. all his life with phil he'd been wanting more attention from his father, and now here he was. getting it in what he was sure was all the wrong ways.

he looked down the hall to see his father, dressed in something that he'd clearly thrown together in a very last minute attempt to look decent. he seemed exhausted as he spoke to the woman at the front desk, and understandably so. he pulled out his phone and realized it was almost four a.m. fucking hell.

"wilbur soot?" the woman that was talking to his dad looked over at him, and he tucked his phone away and looked back. "you can go. your dad's here," she stated. wil didn't know why she felt it necessary to point this out, because he could clearly see that. he walked down the hall slowly, feeling his feet drag against the floor. "your off with a warning for now, mr. soot." she explained. wilbur opened his mouth, but the woman continued before he got anything out. "your friend is too, don't worry." she added. wilbur gave a relieved sigh. "stay out of trouble, kid," she warned, and phil and wilbur both headed out of the station.

there was an uncomfortable silence between them. wilbur could tell he was in deep shit, but phil wasn't saying anything, and it was almost fucking scary. he usually sat in the front seat, but he didn't even bother this time. he slid into the back seat, feeling childish, but adjusting himself nonetheless. phil sat in the drivers seat, starting up the car.

"dad, i-"

"the hell were you thinking, wil?" phil asked. he didn't sound angry or pissed off, just… disappointed. the worst fucking feeling.

"i wasn't," wilbur answered truthfully, his voice a near whisper. "i'm sorry, dad," he shifted in his seat, tugging at his seat belt. phil was quiet for a minute.

"i know, wilbur," was his answer as he pulled out of the police station. and then, silence again. wilbur stared out the window, and his eyes glazed over.

now he was eleven. he was in the living room with techno. he was pretty sure his dad was at work, but he couldn't quite remember. the tension was thick. wilbur didn't like techno, and he was decently sure that techno felt the same way about him. every instance they got, they snapped at each other. they would go off stupidly at any given thing, as most asshole kids usually did.

"pass the remote," wilbur demanded, holding his hand out for the requested device. 

"no. i'm watching this," techno said sarcastically, not even looking up from the book he was reading. the television was on some stupid after school program that no one actually liked. 

"don't be a dick, pass the remote," he ordered, making a grabbing gesture with his hand. "now," 

"i said i'm watching," techno replied, turning to the next page in his book. 

wilbur didn't exactly know what the hell came over him, but the hand that he was using to grab the device was suddenly in a fist and slamming into techno'a shoulder. techno almost dropped his book, and he looked furiously over at wilbur.

"dude what the heck?" he asked, looking and noting the page in his book before closing it.

"you're such a dick," wilbur spat out, his eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"ME? you just punched me because i wouldn't hand you the remote!" techno responded.

"yeah, but you wouldn't hand me the remote- plus you're just always a dick. like always,"

"if you keep being mean i'm gonna tell dad you swore," techno threatened. and again, wilbur punched his arm.

"you're such a brat," his tone was venomous, and techno was absolutely not having any of this bullshit. he stood up, and crossed his arms.

"hit me again and i'm going to punch you in the face," techno threatened. wilbur stood up as well, and this time, he didn't punch techno, he shoved him, almost to the ground. true to his word, techno landed a blow to his face. now, techno was ten years old and had never been in a fight in his entire life, but he'd read books, and he'd watched movies, so his posture was alright, but it didn't really hurt. honestly, it just pissed wil off more.

wil blinked once, then twice, and he was once again staring out the car window at the snow that was falling a bit heavier now. he remembered that day like it was yesterday, even though it was really like seven years ago. he and techno had fucking gone in on each other- granted they were ten and eleven, so neither of them hit all that hard, but they both ended up with a few bruises here and there. wilbur had a bloody nose. 

the fight hadn't really come up with a loser. neither of them were really hurt, they'd both just ended up sweaty and tired of the bullshit. wilbur didn't know why, but something about that stupid little fight had truly changed his perception of techno. for some reason, the anger and shit that he held in the pit of his stomach for techno was suddenly vaporized. and honestly, that was it. they were both tired, and hurt, and they were both.. less angry. they weren't nearly as pissed at one another as they'd previously been. 

from then on, the house had been considerably less heated. when phil had gotten home, he'd come to see two kids that barely had tolerated each other before, laughing at some bullshit spongebob joke. he had noticed that they both looked… roughed up to say the least, but something told him that he didn't need to ask. so, he didn't. to this day, phil still had no god damn clue what went down that day. wilbur was decently sure that this was for the best.

the car stopped, and wilbur blinked back into reality. he waited for phil to get out before he followed suit, wrapping his coat tightly around himself and following his dad inside.

they stood in the inside of the hallway quietly for a minute. phil closed and locked the door behind them, then looked at his son. wilbur looked tired. his hair was fairly fucked up, and he had dark bags under his eyes. he his cheeks looked hollow. honestly, he looked almost ghostly. when had this shit happened? where had he gone wrong? wilbur was too young to be looking this bad. silently, he pulled his boy into a hug.

"i'm sorry, wilbur," he apolgized, hugging him tightly.

"...sorry..? for what? i'm the one who woke you up at four in the morning because i'm an idiot," wilbur wrapped his arms around his dad, feeling his lower lip quiver. he felt oddlt sober in this moment.

"i shouldn't have let you come to this- wil, i love you, but you look like shit, and it's my fault," phil apologized. he himself felt his eyes watering. he was a shitty dad. he tried his hardest, he really did, but he was no superman.

wil felt himself give a shaky laugh, pressing his face into his dads chest. "you-you're not a shitty dad, i'm just a shitty kid," wil explained.

"wilbur, you shut up, you're not a shitty kid. you're lost right now, and i'm supposed to help you find your way, and i haven't been," he felt a tear drip on his cheek. "but i'm sorry. i'm just trying to make this process easy for everyone." phil didn't actually say what process, and wil appreciated that. the last word he wanted to hear right now was fucking tommy. 

"it's okay, dad. i've been a bastard," wilbur responded. "i'll behave. honestly, i will. i'm sorry." he whispered.

"me too. i'm sorry, wil," phil responded. then, they just sat there. the minutes ticked by, and before too much time could pass, phil spoke again. "you are an idiot though," he joked. "and i love you, but you're in so much trouble. you're spending this winter break at home. plus you're apologizing to tommy first thing. double plus, you're driving tommy to school tomorrow if the snow gets much harder." phil listed. wilbur groaned.

"that's fair, i guess," he grumbled, slowly pulling out of the hug and rubbing his temples. 

"and you still have to go to school tomorrow. you have exams," phil smiled. wil groaned once again. "tough. now go take a shower and bring a glass of water up with you. i love you," he gave wilbur a kiss on the forehead.

"alright. i'll get it after the shower. night, dad. i love you too," wil stumbled carefully up the stairs, locking himself in the bathroom quickly. he was tired. he didn't grab clothes, but he didn't really care. he'd sleep in boxers or something.

he hopped in the shower, absent mindedly scrubbing his hair as he stared at the shampoo bottle. 

again, he was his younger self. now he was fifteen. he was staring at a pile of homework that he had to do, and his brain was absolutely not having it. was this the gifted kid burnout everyone talked about? though, he supposed he wasn't actually smart, he actually had to put a lot into it, so maybe that was why he was burnt out. whatever it was, he didn't care. he sat down on his bed, away from his desk and the schoolwork on it, and pulled out his guitar.

that memory struck a chord with him as he rubbed shampoo out of his hair. that point and on had been rough. he was still in that gifted kid burnout. when he had brought home his first failing report card, he hadn't gotten in any trouble, but he could tell phil was disappointed. he told him to try harder next time as he was pinning techno's perfect marks up on the fridge.

his report cards hadn't gotten all too much better since then, but he'd grown used to phil's disappointment. he finished up his shower and slowly dried his hair and body off. he didn't bother doing any skin care like he usually did. instead, he headed straight to bed. he knew he told his dad he'd get water, but he didn't feel like going down the stairs. upon entering his room, he saw a cup of water on his bedside table. he smiled. he loved his dad.

he took a sip of water, and promptly crashed onto his bed, snoring within literal seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long fucking chapter but im really happy with it so i hope you are too, tell me abt your chapter thoughts and your day enjoy being single nerds.
> 
> dw we both know you have a left hand for a reason.


	15. well this is fucken awkward

tommy woke up with a crick in his neck. he shifted in discomfort, wondering why the fuck he was sitting at such an uncomfortable angle in his sleep before remembering that he and techno had fallen asleep during their movie. that explained why techno's fluffy, red blanket was awkwardly draped around him, but it didn't explain why he was by himself. actually, it did quite the opposite. where the fuck had techno gone?

he stretched, cracking his fingers, then his neck in an attempt to make it feel better. it didn't. after aimlessly patting his bed for a few moments, he found his phone and checked the time. 05:42. lovely. up waayyyy before he had to be. he sat in silence for a few minutes. the house was quiet. like, abnormally quiet. he couldn't hear either phil nor wilbur snoring. that was weird. they were both pretty loud. he didn't really give all that much a shit though. 

he stood up and looked out the window. it was still snowing, though considerably less than it had been the day prior. still, enough to make walking to school a nightmare he didn't want to deal with. 

he checked his phone again, partially to text tubbo and partially to check the group chat, which was currently titled 'holy shit fundy fucked my mother'. he noticed that his battery was at five percent and swore at himself for not plugging it in the night prior. he called tubbonas he searched for his charger, cradling the phone between hus shoulder and his ear.

"morning," a groggy sounding tubbo greeted once he answered.

"morning. did i wake you?" tommy asked. he didn't particularly care if he did, considering they usually called each other at random hours anyways and he was sure tubbo had done the same to him a myriad of times.

"nah, i've been up for a bit now, just haven't had to talk quite yet," tubbo explained with a yawn.

"ah, alright. yo, is dream driving us today?" tommy asked, finally finding his charger and laying back down as he plugged his phone in.

"ah, shit, sorry. i forgot to say yesterday- us and our parents left super fucking-"

tommy heard a distant "toby watch your mouth," 

then a "sorry mother dearest-" tubbo lowered his voice. "super fucking early to get breakfast and have some family bonding before school. they're taking us there," he had a sympathetic tone. "sorry, big man,"

tommy felt his stomach drop in realizing he'd have to ask phil ot walk himself. "no worries, have fun with your parents," tommy responded, turning. "you good to talk?"

"not much longer on the phone, but i'll text if you want," tubbo answered. a pause, then shuffling "dream- dream shut up, you talk to gogy in the car all the time, leave me be,"

"yeah but george isn't annoying," tommy recognized dreams voice.

"tell dream i said fuck off," tommy told tubbo.

"tommy said fuck off, dream,"

"toby, what did i just say?"

"oh my g- sorry mother-"

tommy giggled at the situation as a whole. he could picture tubbo crammed in the back seat with dream, trying to deal with him, his parents, and tommy all at the same time.

"tell tommy i said to suck it," dream replied.

"i can hear you bitch- fuck you," tommy spoke a bit louder so dream could hear.

"oh my god, you're going to get me yelled at," tubbo scolded. tommy snorted.

"text me whatever it was you want to talk about, i'm hanging up before you say anything incriminating," tubbo said.

"i'm gonna piss first and then i'll explain," tommy said and promptly heard two people talking at the same time.

"what incriminating things could he have to say?" from a voice that he didn't recognize and could only assume to be tubbo's father, and a "kay byeeee," from tubbo himself. what a chaotic household.

tommy smiled as he hung up, leaving his phone on his bed and heading towards the bathroom. after pissing, then washing his hands and brushing his teeth, he returned to his room and tucked himself under both his blanket and techno's blanket. he was decently sure techno had retreated to his own room at some point and left his blanket as to not disrupt tommy too much. he was okay with this considering the blanket was exceptionally comfortable and the weather was fucking freezing. 

after checking 'holy shit, fundy fucked my mother' (spoiler alert, no mothers were fucked by fundy) and sending his daily 'gm bitches' he opened up his text messages with tubbo and smiled.

'tommy'

'TOMMMYYYYYY'

'WTF'

'IT'S ONY MIDNIIGHT WERE ARE YOU'

'A A A A A A A'

'AANSWER'

'ANSSWER NOW'

'ANSSWER ORNDUMB AND BAD AND UFLY'

'mother fucker'

all from last night. tommy almost felt bad he'd fallen asleep before answering tubbo, but tubbo had seemingly gotten over it, judging by how chill he was on the phone.

'back'

'wb. spill?'

'ofc'

tommy explained pretty much the whole night to tubbo since he'd gotten home. wilbur's whole thing, techno's whole bit. it was short, and paraphrased into, well, text talk, but he was sure tubbo got the gist. of course, he kept a bit to himself. he didn't go too much into detail with techno's story from the previous night. he knew techno would never know if he told tubbo anything, but it felt personal. like it was something to be kept between just them.

'daaaaaamnnn tommy'

'ikr'

'whaat an asshole i sweae wilbir aeemed much cooler before'

wilbur was never cool big T'

'fair enoufh. shity. i have to go before father deatest asks for my head. tapk to you at school?'

'yeah alright. later, have fun with family'

'i wont 😌'

tommy smiled and checked the time. 06:30. still a while to go before school, but his stomach was growling. he figured he'd bullshit and eat some, then watch some television before school. he stood up and stared into his closet. he was terrible at choosing outfits, he hated uniforms and all, but at least he didn't have to fucking choose. after a bit of staring, he settled on some light brown corduroy pants and the sweater that niki had made for him. it warmed his heart, as well as his torso. complete win.

he pulled on some red socks and white shoes- apparently the colour of your socks should actually match or compliment your outfit, as his friends had 'kindly' told him multiple times. he didn't bother with actually trying to do his hair, using his hands to brush through it a few times and heading downstairs. a light in the kitchen was on, and two figures sat quietly eating cereal at the table.

tommy greeted techno with a slight smile and a nod- only the nod was reciprocated- and completely ignored wilbur. he spoke as he poured his own cereal into a bowl that was set out for him. 

"where's phil?" he asked. wilbur was wise enough to allow techno to answer.

"had work early. wil's driving," techno explained, turning to look at wilbur, then at tommy to see how he reacted. tommy groaned.

"hell no, i'm fucking walking then," tommy answered, pouring his milk over the cereal.

"no you're not," techno said, pretty much emotionless. to be fair, tommy had taken this better than he'd expected. "it's freezing out there and still snowing. not happening, dad would kill me. you're getting a ride from wilbur," and something about techno's word felt final. tommy knew he wasn't getting out of this. mother fucker.

he slammed the fridge shut as he put the milk away, grabbing a spoon from a drawer and slamming that too. unsurprisingly, neither techno or wilbur were very affected by this child being a dramatic child.

"slam all ya want, but you're getting a ride from wil," techno said, finishing up his cereal. 

tommy grumbled to himself, muttering about how wilbur was "a fucking bitch" and how the whole situation was "fucken bullshit". 

wilbur chose to remain silent, stirring his cereal aimlessly in his bowl. he wasn't particularly hungry, and he was like ninety nine percent sure if he ate anything he'd just end up hurling it up again in five minutes. not to mention his pounding. he had it coming, to be fair. he should've known better than to go drinking on a school night. he was a dumbass. he had half the mind to just go and dump this shit out, but techno was sorta giving him a look that made him feel like of he DID throw it out, he'd pummel him or something.

quietly, they ate. well, wilbur and tommy ate, and techno sat at the table, reading some random book. he only looked up when tommy put his bowl in the sink. 

"put the gifts from your bag in your room," techno reminded tommy, and tommy wondered how the hell techno remembered that he had his friends presents in his bag, because even he didn't. "then we'll watch something for a bit," he had a light tone to his voice.

"yeah, alright," tommy agreed, stomping (it wasn't intentional, he was just a loud kid) to get his backpack, then heading up the stairs to his room. techno waited until he heard tommy hit the last stair before he turned to wilbur.

"you know you have to apologize to him, right?" he asked, looking at wilbur with an eyebrow raised.

"no, yeah, i know," wilbur nodded, standing up and putting his bowl in the sink, still half full. "i just have no idea how. i feel shitty, but let's be real, there's no chance in hell he's gonna forgive me," wilbur pointed out.

"whether he forgives you or not, you're in the wrong. you've gotta apologize," 

"i will. today. just, in the car," wilbur decided. techno seemed a bit skeptical, but the conversation was pretty much ended when tommy thumped back down the stairs, then headed straight towards the couch.

"whatdya wanna watch?" techno asked, moving to the living room and hopping over the back of the couch to sit on it.

"dunno. can't imagine anything good is on," tommy checked the time on his phone. 07:10. "we don't even have all that much time. just something random, i guess," was tommy's answer. incredibly insightful. after a minute or so of clicking, they settled on some random kids show that they could just laugh at and make fun of until they had to go. 

this was pretty much exactly what they did. tommy and techno sat in the living room, making fun of the poorly produced kid show, and wilbur kept his distance in the kitchen, staring blankly at the table he was seated at as he tried not to focus on the pounding in his head. it wasn't terrible- it hurt still, but not as bad. he hadn't gotten to have to whole slushie, plus he was more than capable of handling his alcohol at this point, but the early morning and the three hours of sleep weren't doing great for him.

he really only acknowledged his surroundings when he checked his phone to see it was 7:25. 

"alright, you two, come on. we better head out now- may take a while to drive in all this snow, ya know," wilbur stood up, retrieving his coat from the coat rack- he didn't remember hanging it up there last night, in fact, he quite remembered tossing it on the floor of his bedroom before passing out- so he figured his dad must have put it up there for him. he smiled as he pulled it on, checking that both his wallet and car keys were there.

the other two relented with ease, (though tommy did mutter to himself) as techno turned off the television and tommy pulled his backpack on.

"ready?" wilbur asked.

"yup," techno replied. tommy gave a short nod. this car ride was gonna be agonizing. the trio headed towards the car silently, wilbur paused to lock the door behind them.

loading into the car was awkward. tommy sat in the back, wilbur in the driver seat, and techno in the passenger. tommy made a point of sitting behind wilbur as to avoid him being able to look back and make eye contact. maybe he and techno were meant to be family, because both these bitches were dramatic as f u c k.

the snow had slowed down a but during the night, and a snow plow had went through the streets at some point, which wilbur was grateful for as they silently drove down the street. usually someone would plug their phone into the aux, but no one here was making any move to do that, so it was just a bunch of quite breathing, the occasional sniffle from the cold weather, and the sound of snow crunching beneath the car tires. wil had never really cared that his radio didn't work, but now he sure fucking wished it did.

it was only when they were a block or two away from their school when wilbur decided this was ridiculous. he stopped at a red light and awkwardly craned his neck to look at tommy.

"look, man, i'm genuinely, really and truly, sorry," he said, looking as genuine as he could at the awkward angle he was at. tommy was a bastard for sitting behind him, but wilbur was actually really fucking sorry, and he wasn't about to do that bullshit for the next few months where he was just nice instead of actually apologizing. he was gonna (try) and make it up to him.

"light's green," tommy pointed out, adverting his gaze to look out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey lmao ik this seems like an abrupt rnd to a chapter but i didnt wanna cram the rest into it 🙏 next weeks chapter is gonna be so pog
> 
> anyways, tell me about yout day, i hope it was good :) 
> 
> https://discord.gg/rSTNyFsy8G
> 
> ^discord link we are very cool


	16. the redemption(ish) arc of that one asshole (part 1, the café)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is rushed but i was sick this week and wanted smth out 🥴 enjoy?

wilbur turned back towards the road, sighing to himself. he knew tommy wasn't going to magically forgive him, because this wasn't some bullshit fairy tale, and shit didn't magically get better after a little ' im sowwy :( ' but fucking hell. he couldn't decide if he was angry at the world like it felt like, or if he was angry at himself, which did seem more reasonable. the world isn't the one that told tommy he wasn't gonna be a part of the family. 

pressing the gas past the street that they needed to turn on to go to school was a bit of a on the spot decision. it wasn't unlike him to skip school, the shit was mad boring and it wasn't like he'd actually learned anything since he was like twelve, but it was unlike both tommy and techno. especially when it wasn't something that they wanted to do. 

"uh, whatcha doin'?" techno asked, turning his head towards the street they should've turned down, then looking back over at wil. "you missed our turn," he pointed out. tommy looked from his window up to the front where wilbur and techno were sat, an eyebrow raised. he hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation, more occupied with the song in his head (an idle tune from animal crossing) and the falling snow he could see out the window, but he had heard 'missed turn' which had brought the able sisters theme to an abrupt stop.

"i was thinking we skip today. i mean, weathers shit anyways, we won't be the only one's gone," wilbur replied, tapping the steering wheel with a newfound rhythm. he glanced over at techno, who wore a skeptical expression.

"oh, come on. you and i both know that you've already finished your exams early," wilbur rolled his eyed. ooh look at me i'm not experiencing smart kid burnout and i'm happy-ish in life yeah sometimes wilbur wanted to punt his brother. like, he loved him, but he was a fucking pain. well, not really, but still. ugh smart kids.

"yeah but i have perfect attendance and i don't wanna ruin my streak, jerk," techno sneered.

"and helloo? i haven't finished my exams. i'm not einstein over here," tommy intervened quite rudely. wilbur rolled his eyes.

"like i said, we're not the only ones that aren't gonna be there, the snow is still coming down and the roads are shit. i'm like, at least ninety nine percent sure that they'll let you retake if you ask them," he said as if he hadn't a care in the world. wilbur was a bastard.

honestly? tommy didn't care about school. he was more than glad to skip some hard ass tests, but he'd definitely miss his friends while they were on vacation, and he'd really wanted to see tubbo. plus, niki wouldn't get to see that he was wearing the sweater she'd made for him. double plus, wilbur was a fucking bitch, and his will to live was solely based on spiting him.

"okay, asshole, then where exactly are you planning on taking us?" tommy asked with venom in his voice. he didn't have much of a choice, which was the main reason he didn't fight back. he wasn't very well going to fucken hop out of the car or something.

"i was thinking we grab breakfast. maybe a café down here or something," wilbur suggested. he was surprised this was going as well as it was. he'd definitely expected more bitching, but to be fair, no sixteen year old actually wanted to go to school for anything besides seeing their friends, and we're living in the 21st century, phones and facetime exist.

"is this kidnapping?" tommy asked techno, who contemplated this for a moment before shrugging. 

"honestly? maybe." he agreed. he didn't know what exactly wilbur was trying to pull, but his brother acted in strange ways, and if kidnapping their younger brother from school to go and get some breakfast was some weird sort of bonding thing, he supposed he didn't have much of a choice but to just roll with it.

tommy grumbled to himself, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms. damn, he really didn't want to go to school, and he had already scored high enough in his classes that he probably could pass without actually taking his finals. maybe he could relent on the bitching slightly, but only because he was more than okay with wilbur buying breakfast. the guy was a huge dick, but ya know, food.

the car slowed and came to a stop right in front of a little café. tommy had been once or twice with niki, but they usually just got coffee and dipped never actual food.

"alright. everyone out," wilbur ordered, making sure he had his phone and wallet before exiting the car himself. tommy locked eyes with techno, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"your brother is really weird," he pointed out. techno shrugged.

"you get used to him," was techno's response as he put his backpack at his feet and climbed out of the car. tommy followed suit, tossing his bag to the other side if the car and slamming the door shut with a satisfied sort of grin. he could basically see wilbur grimace at the sound, though he didn't turn back around, merely yelled a 'hurry up'. tommy was frankly surprised the entire, beat up car wasn't completely falling apart, but did indeed hurry up. despite his better judgement, he mumbled a quiet "thanks" as wilbur held the door of the place open

the trio almost stuck out like sore thumbs. most everyone there was clearly in their mid-twenties and up, and dressed rather appropriately for the weather, then there was them three, kids who were clearly cutting school, based on their age, as well as the demeanor that two of them had, of children that were doing something they shouldn't be. luckily, no one gave a shit. there were only like ten people max anyways, and they all kept to themselves, minding their own business. 

well, besides another kid who was clearly cutting school, who looked up at the sound of the entrance bell clinging, then quickly looked down to avoid eye contact and hopefully completely avoid interaction at all with the kids he clearly went to school with. tommy recognized this kid, his name was like ranboo or something. he was a cool person, but towered over basically everyone in a slightly menacing way, despite being one of the sweetest tommy had met. like dream, he wore a face mask, but at least his was split down the middle, making it half black and half white. his was cool in comparison to that asshole dream. he also wore this hair clip that had a little crown on it, which tubbo had pointed out to his friends in awe, and the rest of them had agreed it was pretty cool.

the three made their way up in line, tommy noticing ranboo do the whole 'slightly covering your face and praying that the person that you recognize in public doesn't recognize you right back' thing and tommy being more than glad to ignore him.

"alright, which one of you knows the kid who clearly doesn't wanna be noticed?" wilbur asked quietly in the group. techno snorted quietly, putting a hand to his face to quiet himself. this kid was shit at hiding it, and he had noticed the whole time, but hearing someone else point it out was funny to him.

"me," tommy answered begrudgingly. "kid in my year. he's quite nice,"

"yeah, well he looks pretty dumb," wilbur pointed out lightheartedly. he'd been hoping it was techno, because he doubted that tommy would give him a proper answer, but he stood corrected, and he couldn't ignore the feeling in his stomach that kinda made him wanna throw up in the best way possible.

"yeah, well you look pretty dumb. you look like a dog who hasn't been to a groomer in seven years, cut your hair," tommy snidely remarked. techno and wilbur looked at each other because firstly, what kind of insult was that, and secondly, because tommy too, had a shit ton of fluffy hair that could probably do with a haircut. 

"what are you? the haircut police?" wilbur asked.

the woman who worked at the counter who surely hated her life considering she had to work with idiots like this, piped up. "excuse me? i can take you if you're ready to order," 

"oh- right sure," wilbur went slightly red in the face. "sorry, i'll take a black coffee and a bagel," he supplied quickly, looking towards his brother and tommy. "you two?" he asked. tommy couldn't believe he had to change his whole order because wilbur had just ordered a black coffee. the bastard. luckily, techno spoke up and gave his order, giving tommy time to relook at the menu. he decided on what tubbo usually had. 

"uh, i'll do an iced coffee with a blueberry muffin please." he requested. the woman smiled and nodded, giving wilbur the total, which was when he stopped paying attention to the conversation and started paying attention to his surroundings. the place wad pretty full, but it was a pretty small place, so it's not like there was a lot of people or anything. however, based on how many people there were, there was really only one table, and it was next to ranboo. he groaned internally. 

"right, let's sit," wilbur said, a somewhat stupid smile coming across his face as he came to the same revelation that tommy had only a few seconds prior. quietly, the trio made their way to the unoccupied table, wilbur and techno both making points of sitting in the spots further from ranboo, leaving tommy sitting closest to the boy. bastards.

upon sitting, he realized that ranboo wasn't alone. he was sitting with another boy from their year, a kid called grayson who went by purpled. did he even need to make another remark about the fucking nicknames around here? the reason purpled hadn't really stuck out before was because, unlike ranboo, he was being completely inconspicuous. he was the type of kid to he good at bullshitting. act confident and like you know what you're doing and no one messes with ya. easy. enough of that investigating shit though, he wanted nothing to do with kids from school. if he had to choose between school people and people who he happened to live with, it'd be the latter all day long. everyone knows the unspoken rule that unless you're friends with someone, you don't acknowledge them outside of school.

the silence at their table was a bit uncanny, considering everyone else was chattering away. like it wasn't even quiet, due to the mix of other conversations, and whatever soft music the shop had playing. still, as tommy picked at the table, he felt awkward.

"sooo.. school," techno began, a conversation that was clearly going nowhere.

"shut up, techno," wilbur rolled his eyes. "no one wants to talk about school. that's why we're here. i say we talk about what we do after here," he proposed. tommy raised an eyebrow curiously. he had sorta thought they were gonna go to breakfast and then that'd be it. 

"what were you thinking?" techno asked. what the hell did people do when they skipped school?? 

"maybe we sneak into a movie or something?" he offered. 

"or we could pay normally for a movie," tommy made a face.

"yeah, but sneaking in is much more fun," wilbur countered. 

"you know, if you wanna talk about breakin the law and shit, you may want to, i dunno, lower your voices?" techno said.

"vouch," a fourth voice chimed in. the three of them turned their heads towards the boy called purpled, who was looking at them with the straw of his drink in his mouth. "sorry, just, you guys are just so loud," he explained. techno snorted and tommy felt his cheeks go slightly pink with embarrassment.

"purpled- dude shut up," ranboo kicked his friends leg under the table. 

"i mean they're basically yelling," purpled countered. 

"shouldn't you children be in school?" wilbur asked, the 'im older and a big brother and i think i know everything because im a bitch' tone really popping out.

"shouldn't you?" ranboo shot back.

"touché," wilbur nodded. 

"anyways, we have coffee to drink and all that. break the law quieter," purpled waved them off, turning back to face ranboo. ranboo waved and turned back as well (tommy was pretty sure he was smiling, but he couldn't really tell with the mask and all).

"man, i hate children," wilbur grumbled, turning his attention back to tommy and techno.

"you realize you're not eighteen yet, thus technically a child, right?" techno inquired. wilbur rolled his eyes.

"you realize you're not eighteen yet, thus technically a child, right?" he mocked, his demeanor changing completely when the young woman from behind the counter appeared with the drinks and the food they'd ordered.

"here you are, enjoy," she smiled. wilbur smiled back, giving her a wink, and techno and tommy both nodded in response. she seemed quite unamused by the wink, rolling her eyes and returning to her post.

"ooooh, that's an L," tommy sneered, more than pleased by the woman shooting wilbur down.

"i wasn't trying anything, it wasn't an L. it was just staying professional," wilbur insisted. 

"you're full of shit, that was a total L," techno added, taking tommy's side in the clearly bullshit argument. the rest of their breakfast was spent bickering back and forth. it was lighthearted for the most part, only tommy having any real malice in his voice, and even then it was only really directed towards wilbur. was this the beginning of a redemption arc for that asshole?


End file.
